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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338669">too close for comfort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWS/pseuds/TWS'>TWS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>104th Training Corps Shenanigans, Anxiety, Betrayal, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, obligatory tragedy warning as it's bertholdt, spoilers for attack on titan obviously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:15:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWS/pseuds/TWS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was never a lie! Do you understand? We're not who we said we were, but it wasn't an act! We genuinely thought of you as our friends!"</p><p>***</p><p>Moments where Bertholdt got too close to the others.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reiner Braun &amp; Bertolt Hoover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Armin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sooo, this idea popped into my head, of writing moments between bertholdt and each of the notable 104th training corps members showing the times he Showed Affection and Cared For Them and Bonded With Them against his will. this will be multi-chaptered, if i decide to get my shit together and there's any interest in this... and yes i'm still deeply in love and hurting for my boy. </p><p>i have an entire 500k word wip to update and ive started this, very sexy and iconic of me</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>obviously it's very vital to begin with armin, because... You know. i've read an idea about bertholdt giving armin book reccomendations and idk if it has any basis in canon but??? here it is???</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seeing a member of the 104th Training Corps willingly reading a book is probably more rare than seeing a Titan in the flesh, Armin thinks, as he slips into the library that afternoon. They’ve all been granted a precious afternoon off, and while the others head off to mess around and catch up on sleep and gossip, Armin plans to settle down with a good thick novel and enjoy a few hours alone. He’s absolutely the only one who would ever consider doing this.</p><p>He’s not sure what kind of book he wants to read today. The run this morning was punishing as all hell, so perhaps he needs a simple fantasy to dive into for some quick and easy escapism. Or maybe he needs to distract himself with heavy and complex subject matter- wrapping his head around intricate philosophical concepts has always been a fun pastime. But he <em>does </em>deal with enough heaviness and complexity as it is... Maybe he needs a break from that...</p><p>Escapism is probably his best bet.</p><p>Running his fingers across the spines of the books on the shelf, Armin searches for something that might catch his fancy, but the blurbs of everything he pulls out don’t really grip him. He wonders if he should ask the librarian for a recommendation. Before he can leave the aisle to seek her out, he bumps into someone.</p><p>“I’m so sorry!” he pipes up. “I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, there…”</p><p>“No, I’m sorry,” a familiar soft voice says. “I didn’t see you.”</p><p>Surprise flickers inside Armin as he looks up (it’s almost embarrassing, he has to crane his neck) at Bertholdt Hoover, the timid giant who spends practically all of his time with Reiner. Armin hasn’t really spoken to him much since their first day with the Corps, when Bertholdt had told the story of his past, and he’s astonished to see him here. </p><p>Bertholdt is one of the highest ranking in the class, a physical powerhouse who slices his way through training with ease. What in the world is he doing in the library on his day off? </p><p>“I was just… looking for something to read,” Armin says lamely. He feels even more tiny and frail than usual in the presence of such a huge person, even if Bertholdt has been more quiet than him so far. “Today was really tiring, so I didn’t feel like being among Eren and Jean fighting each other.”</p><p>“I understand,” Bertholdt says. “I came here for some peace, too.”</p><p>When Armin looks at him more closely, he can see tiredness in Bertholdt’s eyes. It’s definitely been a long week, even for the more talented cadets. “Do you like to read?”</p><p>Bertholdt nods and gives a rueful smile. “Reiner calls me a colossal nerd because of it.”</p><p>“Eren is like that,” Armin sighs. “I think you’d have to strap him down and put a sword to his throat before he opened a book of his own volition.”</p><p>“Honestly, I think it’s the same for most of our comrades,” Bertholdt chuckles. It’s a warm sound. “I don’t mind. It means this place is quiet.”</p><p>Humming in agreement, Armin turns his attention back to the rows of books. “Hey, Bertholdt… I don’t suppose you have any recommendations for me? I’ve been searching for a little while, but I couldn’t really find anything that looks interesting.”</p><p>Bertholdt looks almost surprised that someone could ask for his opinion, but at Armin’s earnest look he mumbles, “Um… sure. Do you want me to take you to them?”</p><p>It’s almost embarrassing how eagerly Armin nods.</p><p>"Okay... Are you picky about the genre?"</p><p>"No, I read anything and everything, honestly," Armin says brightly. "If it's bad, it means I get to criticise it. A win-win situation, huh?"</p><p>"That couldn't be me," Bertholdt admits. "I'm shallow, I can't get through hundreds of pages of something I'm not into..."</p><p>"I think that makes you normal," Armin corrects him with a gentle laugh, and gets a sheepish smile in response. It's easy to feel comfortable around Bertholdt- plus, it's gratifying that Armin can finally tell Eren that he’s not the only one who’s nerdy enough to spend a day off reading.</p><p>He follows Bertholdt out of the aisle, noting that despite how elegant he is in training, he shuffles along the floor like a timid schoolboy. It's almost as though he isn't used to moving around in such a large body- which is ridiculous, of course, as he's pulled off some crazy stunts in ODM gear. Speaking of which...</p><p>“You were really good in that last drill,” Armin says, thinking that maybe he can make a friend out of his shy comrade. “It’s amazing that you cleared it the quickest out of everybody. It's not every day somebody beats Mikasa.”</p><p>Embarrassment colours Bertholdt's cheeks. “Oh… thank you. It was just dumb luck, though, I messed some stuff up…”</p><p>Modesty is a rare trait among the 104th Training Corps. Both Armin and Bertholdt are definitely outliers to their aggression-fuelled comrades, though Armin is genuinely useless and isn’t actually pretending whenever he criticises his own abilities.</p><p>“Aw, I think you’re underestimating yourself,” is all he says. Bertholdt casts him a bashful smile and stops by a shelf.</p><p>“It should be here,” he says. He peers along the row of books until his eyes light on the right one. “Uh… yeah. This one is good.”</p><p>“Thank you!” Armin says, taking the book from Bertholdt’s outstretched hands. “What’s it about?” </p><p>Bertholdt rubs the back of his neck, he seems almost embarrassed to explain. “It’s about a pirate at sea- he’s trying to get away from his old life and find a purpose. Sorry, I’m bad at explaining, but... it’s really well-written.”</p><p>“The sea?” Armin says brightly. “That’s amazing! Hey, do you believe in it too?”</p><p>“Do I…” Bertholdt initially looks puzzled by the question, and then understanding flickers in his eyes. “Yeah, I do. I’ve only really read about it, but it sounds incredible, right?”</p><p><em> Okay, relax. Don’t explode on the spot. </em>“It really, really does… I've always wanted to see it! Thank you so, so much for this!”</p><p>“It’s okay. I didn’t write it or anything,” Bertholdt mumbles. “Do you want any more?”</p><p>“Sure!” Armin says. He tries to stop himself from hopping up and down, but he can't help himself... now he can tell Eren that somebody else believes in the sea… </p><p>Lips curving upwards, Bertholdt leads Armin to another part of the library. Armin turns over the sea book in his hands as though he’s holding a golden relic.</p><p>“Ah, this one is great. It’s really funny, but a lot of things happen that you wouldn’t expect. It's... exciting,” Bertholdt says, drawing out another one. And then he winces. “Okay, I think I need to work on my sales pitches. That couldn’t have been more vague.”</p><p>“You’re doing great, at least you’re not spoiling it all for me,” Armin laughs. “I appreciate it so much. Got any others, or…?”</p><p>He doesn’t want to be annoying and force Bertholdt to keep giving him books, as pleasant of a scenario as that sounds. But Bertholdt doesn’t seem to mind, though his nose crinkles as he thinks. Eventually, an idea seems to come into his mind.</p><p>“There’s… one more, that I think you’d like.” His voice is much slower now, almost hesitant. Armin waits patiently to see what he’s thinking of. “I think…”</p><p>“What is it?” Armin prompts gently, as Bertholdt trails off for a while.</p><p>“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just… the subject matter… is a little heavy. Is that okay?”</p><p>Heavy subject matter? Being recommended by Bertholdt, another person who believes in the sea? Armin can’t think of anything that sounds better.</p><p>“I can handle it,” he says with a smile. “Like I said, I can read pretty much anything.”</p><p>It's meant to be reassuring, but Bertholdt still looks nervous about it. At Armin’s expectant gaze, however, he nods and shuffles along until he finds what he’s looking for. </p><p>“Here we go<em>, </em>” Bertholdt says softly. It's a slightly thinner book, but Armin knows a lot can be packed into a little... “This one is about… suffering.”</p><p>“How lovely,” Armin jokes, but his comrade is staring at the book.</p><p>“And it’s about a cruel world,” he murmurs. “A cruel world where all of the madness and pain happens for no good reason."</p><p><em>Sounds familiar</em>, Armin wants to say, but instead he runs a thumb over the cover of the book slowly. </p><p>Eventually, Bertholdt seems to slip out of a reverie and smiles apologetically at him. “Sorry, it’s a bit more depressing than the other two, as you can probably tell. But I... think you’d like it, Armin.”</p><p>“Thank you, I'm sure it'll be great,” Armin says. He’s not really sure what else he can say. “Hey, are you okay, Bertholdt?”</p><p>Maybe the book touches on troubling topics for him, because he's looking at it like it brings up bad memories. But he nods delicately. “Of course. Okay, I’ll, um, leave you to it now, Armin… Maybe you could tell me what you think of them when you're finished?”</p><p>“I’ll definitely do that.” Warmth blooms inside of Armin. “Hey… not to sound weird, but, you don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. You came here to read too, right?”</p><p>Bertholdt looks surprised. “Oh, yeah… but I wouldn’t want to disturb you…”</p><p>“You wouldn’t! You’re not the type of person to disturb anyone,” Armin reassures him. It’s true, really, for a giant fighter, Bertholdt is extremely unimposing. “It’s up to you of course, but… I really wouldn’t mind at all.”</p><p>Hesitation crosses Bertholdt’s face. Instantly self-consciousness creeps up inside Armin, maybe he should just let the bigger kid go, reading together is perhaps a step too far when it comes to nerdiness-</p><p>“... Sure,” Bertholdt says. "That sounds nice."</p><p>Armin wonders if he imagines faint traces of guilt in his comrade's eyes. It fades when Armin smiles at him and offers to take him to the warmest and cosiest spot in the library, promising him that all the stress from training will roll off his shoulders when they're there. He follows without faltering after that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>apologies if i overuse elipses for bertl awghwirgiugh</p><p>hope u liked???</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mikasa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i dont even know how swordfighting action works this was just self indulgent me imagining bertholdt and mikasa squaring up in training because DAMMIT my boy is capable as fuck and could easily go up against her and i'm sure reiner was only above bertholdt because he had confidence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mikasa doesn’t break a sweat in training. Everyone she comes across ends up yielding eventually, that’s just become a fact of the camp. </p><p>“No fair!” Connie complains, when his sword gets knocked to the ground in a single swipe. “I wasn’t ready for that one!”</p><p>If anything, Mikasa is always willing to give her opponent a fair chance. “Sorry. We can go again, if you want.”</p><p>Predictably, Connie doesn’t look very enthused by the idea. “You know… I’ll let you have that one."</p><p>Not even the hot-headed ones bother trying to hype themselves up when Mikasa faces them with her blade.</p><p>She’s cleared out most of them so far, except for a few. Ymir finds a way to be partners with Krista at any opportunity possible and is otherwise uninterested in training, so Mikasa hasn’t been able to face her off. Annie is another slacker, often slinking off to the sidelines- which is disappointing, as Mikasa imagines she would be a fun opponent. Armin gave up before he could even think about trying against her, tentatively suggesting it would be more helpful to train against someone more on his level. Mikasa tried to tell him she wouldn’t go too crazy on him, he was her friend, after all, but Armin’s nerves always got the better of him.  </p><p>Mikasa casts her gaze around the camp to see if there’s anyone else available at the moment. Melee combat against another person isn't a particularly necessary skill to have against the Titans, but it's damn fun and she wants to get her blood flowing. Hmm... Reiner is pretty strong, but he’s busy chatting animatedly with Krista (with Ymir cutting in every five seconds). Sasha is engaged with Marco, who tries to keep her on task as she keeps going off on tangents, and… Oh. <em> There’s </em>someone she hasn’t faced before.</p><p>Bertholdt stands on the side, drinking from a flask of water and running a hand through his hair as though he’s just woken up. He seems like he’s trying not to attract any attention- he’s probably avoiding doing any work like Annie. Hell, his training sword is lying on the ground beneath him. Mikasa narrows her eyes, sizing him up.</p><p>She doesn’t know much about him, nobody but Reiner does. The only thing that registers in her mind is that he’s kept up very well with all their drills, so maybe he’ll be a good opponent to face off now. It can’t hurt to try and ask him.</p><p>He’s in the middle of giving a gigantic yawn when she approaches him. When he catches sight of her, he jumps like she’s sprung at him out of nowhere.</p><p>“Hey,” Mikasa says. </p><p>“Uh… hi.” Bertholdt’s voice is very hard to catch in the rowdiness of the camp. Up close, Mikasa can see heavy shadows under his eyes, no wonder he's yawning. “All okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. You’ve not got anything going on now, do you?”</p><p>After a bewildered pause, he shakes his head. “No, I was just, um, taking a little-”</p><p>“It’s okay, you’re not the only one slacking off. I’m not here to judge,” Mikasa says, ignoring his embarrassment. “But d’you feel like stretching your legs and sparring a bit?”</p><p>“You want to spar with <em> me? </em>” Bertholdt asks, even pointing at himself, as though she might be confused about who he is.</p><p>Mikasa nods. She can understand his bemusement, they’ve not crossed paths much at all so far. Curiosity flickers inside her as she gazes at him- this is the one person she’s not got much of a read on yet, and a fight is more exciting when she doesn’t know what to expect.</p><p>The look on Bertholdt’s face is so perplexed she thinks he might deny her, but then he gives his head a little shake and nods at her. “Um… okay, then. Sure. Let me just get my-”</p><p>Mikasa bends down to grab the training sword lying at his feet. He blinks as she thrusts it at him.</p><p>“... Thanks,” he says, taking the blade from her. “You know, it’s probably good you’ve asked me to do this, Shadis was going to notice me eventually, hah...”</p><p>“I doubt it. Sasha’s off the rails again, so he’ll be gunning for her again,” Mikasa says. “There’s a good spot over there.”</p><p>The afternoons are warm and golden these days, so free space under the shade of the trees is always in high demand. Thomas has just been sent to first aid for an uncontrollably bleeding nose, however, so Mikasa and Bertholdt are able to take his place with no issues.</p><p>Plus, it’s Mikasa. Nobody would dare go for the free spot when she’s incoming.</p><p>Standing beneath the shade of a particularly thick branch, Mikasa does a few quick stretches before drawing her sword and waiting for Bertholdt to get ready. She stays light on her feet, prepared to launch off into movement at any moment.</p><p>When Mikasa faced off against Reiner he was affable and joked throughout the encounter, but Bertholdt doesn’t try for any sort of small talk. He merely clicks his wrists and settles into position. She definitely prefers that.</p><p>“Okay,” she says, when he raises his blade towards her. “Ready when you are.”</p><p>Bertholdt nods. He’s almost casual in his stance, only loosely defensive, which is again different to Reiner, who constantly projected toughness. The constant darting of his eyes betrays his anxiety, but oddly, Mikasa doesn't think that'll hinder him.</p><p>She's <em>really </em>curious, now. But she doesn't show it, keeping her face as neutral as ever. When she bursts forwards, his jaw sets.</p><p>Their swords clash. Once, twice, thrice. Despite being so big and looking so weary, Bertholdt is startlingly quick in his reactions, so much so that Mikasa has to shift her positioning to try and get at him at another angle. He counters that too, swiftly and easily.</p><p>She steps back from him, her eyes narrowing in focus. At the look on her face, he flushes. Mikasa doesn’t give him any time to speak before she strikes again, but he <em> still </em>gets to it, his arm twisted at an odd angle as he pushes her back. Another sequence of hits and deflections follow, faster and harder than before, but it ends in a stalemate and both of them have to step away from each other.</p><p>Lips tugging up at the edges, very, very slightly, Mikasa re-adjusts her grip on her sword. </p><p>He’s good.</p><p>Bertholdt is sweating, but his eyes are more focused than they were before. He meets her gaze directly, clearly waiting for the next move.</p><p>Launching off her right foot, Mikasa swipes her blade in an arc. Bertholdt hops backwards, ducks her follow-up attempt, and drives forwards with his sword. The two clash, pressing at each other with all their might.</p><p>The friction is unbearable, it’s almost difficult for Mikasa to hold on. But she’s Mikasa. She grits her teeth and pushes forwards as hard as she can. They’re getting closer and closer to the tree, but Bertholdt’s grip remains firm… </p><p>One of them has to break eventually... </p><p>It takes much longer than she expects, but it’s Bertholdt who eventually hesitates, and finally lets his blade drop.  For Mikasa it feels like a huge victory, despite his movement being small.</p><p>Scarlet floods his cheeks as she smiles at him. </p><p>“You’re good,” she says. </p><p>Bertholdt shakes his head. “You’re better.”</p><p>Shifting her feet into a new position, Mikasa raises her sword again. “Shall we go again?”</p><p>He nods and gets back into his stance. Despite the near-constant beads of sweat at his temple and his blush, he looks ready for anything. Again, Mikasa mentally compares him to Reiner- ironically, in spite of their out-of-combat personalities, Bertholdt seems more composed and grounded right now, while his stout companion had been rather…  riled up.</p><p>
  <em> One, two, three, go. </em>
</p><p>This time Mikasa tries for a different approach, with more haphazard swings rather than sharp, precise strikes. But it’s proving to be incredibly difficult to break his guard, he’s still able to counter her, if a little shakily. She doesn’t stop her swinging, going at him relentlessly, and he blocks, blocks, blocks, blocks- she can feel her face contorting, she must look a little demented right now-</p><p>Bertholdt ducks unexpectedly, causing her to stumble forwards. Mikasa swears as he drives the hilt of his blade towards her, and has to take an ungainly sidestep to avoid contact. In a last ditch attempt she slices through the air towards him with as much force as she can muster, but he brings up his sword and manages to parry her, sending both of them back a few steps.</p><p>Damn. </p><p>Both of them breathe heavily. Mikasa is surprised they haven’t gained more of an audience with their display, but then she hears a distinct crowing voice and notices a crowd in the centre of the camp- it looks like Jean and Eren are at each other’s throats again. No wonder the attention isn’t on them.</p><p>“Can I ask where you learned to fight like that?” Bertholdt asks, falling back against the tree. </p><p>“I learned through fighting against boys much bigger than me,” Mikasa says. She jerks her head towards Eren, and Bertholdt looks towards him thoughtfully. “Had to protect that guy over there.”</p><p>She tries not to think of electricity arcing through her body and a blade being driven towards a man's stomach.  </p><p>“What about you?” she asks, scanning him- his body language is completely different in normal conversation to when he’s fighting, he’s hunched into himself now despite embracing his size and weight before. “You’re the best I’ve faced here so far.”</p><p>Again he goes red (he blushes at the frequency most people blink, Mikasa thinks) and mumbles something about that not being true, and Reiner being better, but she simply stares at him.</p><p>“I… I don’t know, really. I guess I just learned,” Bertholdt says eventually. “And trial and error and luck can make for a hell of a good combination.”</p><p><em>Trial and error and luck? </em>That sounds like nonsense to Mikasa- such coordinated and swift reactions don't come from good fortune and trying your best.</p><p>She doesn't question it, though. Instead she surveys him more closely, noticing how his knuckles are white against his sword. He’s the embodiment of nervousness, eyes unable to meet her and fidgeting with the hilt of his blade even though he had levelled with her just a minute prior.</p><p>Mikasa doesn’t know Bertholdt well, but it’s easy to tell he has a lot going through his head. In some ways he reminds her of Armin, whose brain is always ticking, who never lets his thoughts flood out of him like Eren does, but keeps them all stored up. Though she is similarly restrained, she rarely feels as agitated as Bertholdt looks. It can't be easy to be like that.</p><p>Maybe she can help. Fighting transforms a person, wipes out anything on their mind but their opponent. They all have insurmountable burdens on their shoulders that no amount of clashing blades can cure completely, but if there’s anything at all that can make the moment slightly easier...</p><p>“Want to go again?” she asks. “It might help.”</p><p>The question seems to startle him. “H-Huh? Help?”</p><p>“You seem stressed,” she explains. “Fighting is a good outlet. We can go for as long as you like.”</p><p>Those tired eyes dart away from her. “Oh… that’s kind of you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to-”</p><p>“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to. It’s fun,” Mikasa says. “When the time comes you won’t be facing an ally on the battlefield, so it’s debatable how useful this all is, but… it clears your head.”</p><p>There’s a curious expression on his face that she can’t quite read. </p><p>"So, you want to go?" she prompts him, lifting her sword.</p><p>Bertholdt stares at her for a while longer, clearly lost in his thoughts (Mikasa wonders just how many he has), before giving a tentative nod and getting into position.</p><p><em>I'll be so hard on you you won't have time to think, </em>she promises him silently. </p><p>When they meet blades again, he uses his brief window of time to give her a smile. "Thanks, Mikasa."</p><p>"No problem."</p><p>She thrusts her sword towards him and has him leaping back towards the trees, and they clash and clash until Bertholdt's eyes clear and all that's on his mind is the end of her blade.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is messy and badly paced but ugh this is a self-indulgent fic anyway so. also i really need to stop finishing these off at 2am</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i really need to stop writing and posting these so late, but, hope you like it lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes- okay, no, a lot of times- Jean wishes Marco wasn’t so nice. If he was just a little more self-serving, then he’d be here right now spending his day off with Jean rather than helping Connie study for his drills again.</p><p>Jean has no idea where Marco gets his patience from. Only once has he attempted to help Connie, and that ended with the knucklehead almost getting skewered because he <em> never listened, </em> and always asked the same questions twenty times in a row. When Jean tried to warn Marco about how infuriating it would be, however, Marco laughed it off and said <em> I think I’ll be able to handle it.  </em></p><p>Though it annoys him, Jean doesn’t doubt that. Marco is almost admirable when it comes to things like this. But as it stands, he’s alone right now because of Marco’s infinite levels of zen, so he isn’t in the mood to be appreciative. The rest of the cadets have scattered to who knows where, so he has to stomp along to see if he can find someone to tag along with.</p><p>It’s a warm summer afternoon, but thankfully there’s a breeze to stop it being too stuffy. Which would be the perfect weather for hanging out, if there was anyone to hang out with... Jean sticks his hands in his pockets and scans the area to see if anyone at <em>all </em>is around. Hell, he’d even take Eren at this point, at least the little shithead gets his blood flowing.</p><p>He approaches a tangle of trees. A couple of cadets he’s never talked to are sitting on a large stone wall in the distance, but otherwise there’s nobody around. Where <em> is </em>everyone?</p><p>As he turns to leave, he spots something in his peripheral vision and glances upwards.</p><p>There’s someone lying asleep on one of the higher branches of an ash tree. Normally this wouldn’t be anything that would get Jean’s attention, but something about the sheer jeopardy of the person’s position takes him aback. They’re lying face down, with their legs pointing in the air and arms dangling loosely off of the tree branch- <em> nothing </em>is rooting them to where they lie.</p><p>Jean doesn’t even need to squint to know who it is. Not only is this person taller than anyone else in the cadets, but there’s nobody among them but one who would sleep like that on a giant goddamn tree.</p><p>“Bertholdt!” Jean calls.“Hey, Bertholdt- <em> Bertholdt </em>!”</p><p>He hears a distant mumble, but Bertholdt doesn’t wake up. Of course- the cadets have learned that only Reiner is capable of rousing Bertholdt when he’s out, otherwise he’s gone for good. Even when he’s on the verge of toppling off a tree.</p><p>With a faint smile, Jean remembers the night of the raging storm that had everyone in their barracks wide awake. He and Eren had gotten into a huge fistfight in their sleepless tetchiness, with their yelling accompanied by constant booms of thunder, but Bertholdt had slept through it like he was in a silent meadow, and had been <em> most </em>confused at their rage when he woke the next morning.</p><p>Jean wishes he could be as unconcerned as Bertholdt is in slumber.  He shakes his head as he looks upon his comrade, shielding his eyes from a ray of sunlight that pokes through the branches. How is he like this? And how was Reiner able to learn the special power of waking him up?</p><p>Maybe he should just leave the guy to it. Even if he does fall- and he likely will, it’s terrifying to even watch him like this- he can probably handle it. The grass beneath the tree is soft enough, though he’ll probably get a few bruises. But what’s a few bruises when you’re training to slay Titans?</p><p>The brightness of the sun disappears as quickly as it arrived- Jean’s eyes flicker upwards, and he realises with mild surprise that clouds are drifting together. This morning he and Connie unanimously decided that Bertholdt’s sleeping position heralded clear skies today, but perhaps the tree nap has changed things.</p><p>There’ll be rain, Jean decides, as he surveys the arrangement of Bertholdt’s rangy limbs on the branch. His legs are pointed to the sky, which signifies something coming down from the heavens. Maybe it’ll wake him up.</p><p>Jean is about to walk off and continue his search for the others when he hears a groan from up above. “Hey… my leg feels floaty… can we… stop for a moment...”</p><p>Sleeptalking is another thing Bertholdt does from time to time. Mostly what he says is some shade of nonsense, (though he has surprisingly strong opinions- from what the cadets have gathered, he absolutely loathes frogs), and this is no different, but when Jean looks up…</p><p>There’s a good reason for what Bertholdt has just said.</p><p>“Hey.” An intermittent twitch runs through Jean’s eye- one of Bertholdt’s legs have fallen back down, and is dangling quite dangerously over the edge of the branch... “Bertholdt. Bertholdt, wake up! Hey- BERTHOLDT! YOU’RE GONNA- AGH!”</p><p>“YAARGH!”</p><p>Jean has no time to leap out of the way as Bertholdt tips over the branch and plummets. The strangled cry he gives cuts off almost comically as they slam into the ground.</p><p>Injuries are obviously a natural part of the job. Even though Jean wants to become an MP, he’s always known training isn’t going to be a piece of cake. But he never quite expected to be taken out by his ally falling out of a tree and landing on him. He thinks his windpipe is crushed.</p><p>For a moment both of them are totally shell-shocked. With his jaw hanging slack and his eyes as wide as anatomy allows, Bertholdt makes a faint noise that could be interpreted as one of pain or one of total disbelief. Either one makes sense, it can’t be nice to wake up the way he just has. </p><p>They lie in silence, tangled up in each other’s limbs, until Jean finally finds air to breathe again.</p><p>“Bertholdt?” he croaks. </p><p>Painstakingly slowly, Bertholdt meets his eyes and rolls to the side so they’re both free of each other. “Jean…” </p><p>"Just... How much... Do you weigh?" </p><p>Bertholdt shakes his head, unable to find any words. Jean lies spread-eagled on the ground, staring up at the sky.</p><p>“You’re really tall… guess it makes sense… stings a little, but it’s not that ba- hahahaha!”</p><p>The sight of Bertholdt’s astounded expression suddenly sends him into hysterical laughter.  It’s such a ridiculous position to be in, especially with someone as closed off as Bertholdt Hoover, that Jean can’t stop cackling.  Eventually Bertholdt’s mute terror fades and he starts chuckling too.</p><p>Because his chest has caved in, Jean's laughter quickly turns into coughing. Bertholdt feebly pats his shoulder in support.</p><p>"Jean, I'm- I'm so, so sorry about this.” Jean glances in Bertholdt’s direction and sees that he’s bright red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep up there, I just thought I’d read for a bit and got a bit too cosy…”</p><p>"Don't sweat it,” Jean wheezes. “Just... How in the hell do you get any rest like that? My heart was going off just <em> watching </em>you."</p><p>Bertholdt shrugs helplessly. “My useless talent is being able to sleep deeply anywhere, I guess.”</p><p>“Hah... it’s a talent a lot of us would kill to have,” Jean says. “Though I'd take a less dangerous version, you're fucking crazy.”</p><p>It’s odd for them to still be lying down next to each other, but, aching body aside, it’s quite comfortable here. And it’s not like Jean has anywhere else to be. He probably can't even move after Bertholdt's just rammed him into the ground.</p><p>“You know, this actually makes sense,” Bertholdt sighs. “I was dreaming I was on a rope bridge, and then my leg felt all wobbly, like I was gonna fall right off. Lo and behold...”</p><p>Jean snorts. “Your brain doesn't set off any danger signals, huh?"</p><p>"I guess not... I always knew it was out to get me," Bertholdt says gloomily. "I'm my own biggest enemy."</p><p>"I'll say. What if a guy with a giant axe was standing right by your bed?" Jean shakes his head. "You'd be a goner."</p><p>Bertholdt grins. "Hey, maybe I'd end up kicking the shit out of them... I always do that when I sleep next to Reiner. One time, I woke up with my shoes filled with grass because I kept getting him in the head.”</p><p>“You probably deserved that,” Jean laughs, and Bertholdt tips his head in agreement. “Have you always been like this? Like, were you hanging off your bed by your toes as a kid? Or have you just… developed this way?”</p><p>The question incites a thoughtful hum from Bertholdt. He chews on his lower lip. “I’m not sure, really. It’s quite hard to remember what I was like as a child. Maybe I’ll ask Reiner about it.”</p><p>He sighs, shifting slightly on the ground and rubbing his arm ruefully- he probably landed on it badly. As he looks at the giant, Jean realises that he has more questions than expected. Talking about Bertholdt’s crazy sleep habits under the tree he’s just fallen out of is surprisingly fun.</p><p>“What sort of things do you dream about?” he enquires. “You and sleep have got a pretty wild relationship, man, you’ve gotta have crazy stuff going on in your subconscious.”</p><p>Bertholdt’s smile falters at this.</p><p>Sudden guilt springs up in Jean. It was an innocent enough question, but he isn’t the best at thinking about the implications of what he says. Dreams are a touchy topic around here- all of the cadets have woken up in the dead of night clutching their sheets and gasping at some point because of the horrors they saw in their sleep, and Bertholdt wouldn’t be an outlier to this… He did lose his hometown in Wall Maria, after all…</p><p>“I get dreams about all sorts of things,” Bertholdt says, before Jean can change the subject. “A lot of them don’t make any sense at all... In one of them Reiner and I had to build a massive boat, because Connie was planning to flood the place, and there were frogs everywhere… It was pretty awful, because I-”</p><p>“Hate frogs,” Jean supplies with a snigger. At Bertholdt’s look of surprise, he says, “You’ve said it in your sleep.”</p><p>“How embarrassing,” Bertholdt groans. He’s blushing again, and pulling at grass to avoid looking at Jean. “I forgot I do that sometimes…”</p><p>“You don’t say anything bad, don’t worry,” Jean assures him. Bertholdt nods slightly, his shoulders loosening.  “It’s just funny to hear you complain about all this stupid shit. You wouldn’t expect it, coming from you.”</p><p>Bertholdt rubs the nape of his neck. “It must be annoying. I'm sorry."</p><p> “Nah, you don’t do it that much. It just makes us laugh. Now, if it was Eren talking in his sleep, that’d be a different story. Little bastard runs his mouth enough during the day...”</p><p>He doesn’t expect Bertholdt to laugh so much at this. He turns his head to the side to hide his grin.</p><p>“Hey,” Jean says, when Bertholdt settles down. “You recovered from the shock yet?”</p><p>“Just about,” Bertholdt says glumly. “What about you? Are your bones all intact?”</p><p>Jean presses his hands against his elbows and knees, he feels fine, if a little sore. “Just about.” </p><p>They lie in silence for a while. It’s not how Jean expected to spend his day off, but it’s pleasant. He knows Marco would tease him if he could see him like this- he’d probably say something like, <em> look, Jean, you’re learning to sit still and quietly for once! </em>But he doesn’t care.</p><p>He wonders how Bertholdt might be feeling- it’s impossible to tell with how quiet he is, sometimes. Jean turns his head to the side to get a glimpse of him and sees that he has a hand covering his eyes as he looks upwards, hiding his face.</p><p>Jean returns his gaze to the sky. It’s more and more cloudy now, the sun having dipped into the grey. He blinks as something falls on his nose.</p><p>“Well, whaddya know…” Jean grins as a droplet of water rolls down his face. “It’s raining.”</p><p>Bertholdt looks at him in bemusement when he starts giggling, but doesn’t question it. Instead he covers his face again and closes his eyes, while Jean embraces the ensuing downpour of rain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>idk why i found writing jean and bertholdt together so... cute? i don't even like jean but i found this scenario adorable idkw hy</p><p>also im quite surprised i've chosen to make these not from bertholdt's perspective, it wasn't a conscious choice, but it kinda works i guess? i don't know if it'll be like that for all the chapters tho</p><p>i cant tell if ppl are enjoying this or if im screaming intothe void but whatever it's self indulgence city babey</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sasha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry, wow, this one is much longer than the other ones because of some of the set-up involved- you are now forced to read more of my writing!!!!! i am not liable for any damages caused</p><p>the training activity in this chapter is orienteering... which i know nothing about. everything related to that activity is pulled directly out of my ass, please don't dwell too hard on whether it makes sense lsghisghi. but i know people read this for the character interactions and not for the specifics of what training activities the cadets do, so i won't worry too much about it haha</p><p>fun fact, i am a dumbass who doesn't understand maps so i'm perhaps projecting a little bit in this one</p><p>thanks for reading :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s nothing like a good collection of berries for an expedition snack. Sasha knows she’s going to be late to meet with the other cadets, and that Shadis will probably wring her out in front of everyone again, but the indulgence will be well worth it.  </p><p>Orienteering is the item on the agenda for today- they’re splitting off into pairs to work their way through a massive forest and reach a small village several miles out. Sasha thinks it’ll go okay if she partners with someone diligent. She’s not particularly adept at using a map, having always relied on muscle memory to get the lay of the land when she lived in the country as a child, but if she can get someone to do all the work for her she's set.</p><p>She plucks red berries from a bush and drops them into a pouch given to her as a gift from Krista (Ymir curls her lip at the very sight of it). It’s already close to full, but it needs to be brimming, and she hasn’t found any blackberries yet. Those are the tastiest of them all. When she’s done she’ll have to sprint to reach Shadis and the others.</p><p>It’s a cool and damp afternoon, and mist shrouds the surroundings. Something tells Sasha that navigation will be difficult in these circumstances- she's pretty sure she heard Connie say that there was going to be a storm earlier. But at the moment the brisk air is rather nice against her skin, and the rhythmic squelching of her boots proves to be relaxing, so she doesn't worry too much. </p><p>She's pleasantly surprised when her eyes light upon a tangle of blackberries only a few feet away from her. Sasha dashes over towards them and bends to pick some out. Maybe she’ll get back in time after all, and have a good training experience for once… She's due for some good luck. </p><p>As she crouches, humming under her breath, she hears a rustling sound in the distance. Sasha’s ears perk up and she glances in the direction of the noise- but she doesn’t see anything.  Perhaps it’s the wind, or maybe an animal, she’s already spotted a few squirrels out here. </p><p>She returns her attention to her berry picking, but the sound only grows louder, and she realises <em>human</em> footsteps are approaching her. Mute panic rises in her, who could be out here? The other cadets are back in the clearing waiting for instructions, and as far as she’s aware, she’s the only one who’s sneaked out. A horrifying thought strikes before she can convince herself it's nothing to worry about- what if it's <em>Shadis? </em>The world is so cruel to her that she can't rule out the possibility-</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Two people emerge from the trees, but they aren’t a threat. And it's definitely not Shadis. </p><p>It’s Bertholdt and Reiner.</p><p>Relief floods through Sasha- her comrades have never been a more welcome sight. Maybe they're out looking for snacks too, she wouldn’t blame them for it, she knows their rations won’t be enough to carry them through the exercise. She’s about to raise her hand to wave and call out to them when she notices something. </p><p>Reiner looks... <em>angry.</em> This is an unusual sight, given that he’s usually the one who stops others from blowing up at each other, but what’s even more unusual is that Bertholdt looks <em> equally </em>furious. He turns scarlet as regularly as Ymir makes an inappropriate remark that earns her an elbow to the ribs from Krista- which is to say, a lot- but right now he’s pale, and his jaw is so tight it looks like it might snap. </p><p>Oh dear... Are they fighting?</p><p>Sasha’s gut tells her she needs to retreat, because eavesdropping into other people’s affairs is never a good idea, but curiosity roots her to the spot. She can feel her clothes growing more damp, this bush isn’t a particularly glamorous hiding spot… but despite her attempt to be as still as possible, she can’t even hear what they’re saying.</p><p>Reiner speaks in a low, harsh voice, his gaze not breaking from Bertholdt, who for once is reciprocating the eye contact. He gestures forcefully, almost as though he wants to push down Bertholdt’s anger physically, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect- Bertholdt only stands taller. Wow. He must be <em> really </em>mad. </p><p>About what, though? The less ethical half of Sasha feels irritated that she doesn’t know what they’re talking about- perhaps she should edge forwards a little... </p><p>“This isn't easy for me either!” Bertholdt shouts suddenly- and Sasha appreciates at that moment how soft spoken he usually is, because she <em> jolts </em>at his increase in volume, and falls backwards into the bush. She covers her mouth with a hand, hoping she hasn’t been heard, but the two are completely preoccupied with each other. Judging by Reiner’s wide eyes, he’s shocked by the outburst too.</p><p>What’s going to happen now? What if they start fighting? Who would even win? The projected ranks have them battling each other for the second spot, but Sasha doesn’t remember who’s ahead at the moment. Reiner’s so muscular that surely he has the edge, but at the same time Bertholdt knows a ton of stuff and is always available to answer questions when she forgets things in training- maybe he can outsmart Reiner-</p><p>In the middle of her worrying, she hears a firm voice, unmistakably belonging to Annie Leonhart, saying, “This isn’t my problem. I’m going.”</p><p>She steps out from a tree behind Reiner, not giving either of them a second glance. Bertholdt’s eyes follow her as she leaves the area, before he clenches a fist and presses it to his head. It's trembling. </p><p>At first Sasha is confused by why Annie was even there, but then she surmises that she must have stumbled upon their fight by accident too.  Sasha wishes she could be as graceful as her in handling the sheer awkwardness of it all- as always, her expression is completely inscrutable. How did she learn to become so unbothered by everything?</p><p>Sasha figures that it’d be good for her to split too- this has got way too personal, way too quickly. She scrambles to her feet, brushing off mud and leaves from her trousers, seals her pouch of berries and retreats quickly. Her blackberry picking hasn’t been as fruitful as she wanted, but she can't exactly stick around. At least she knows she won’t be the most late to meet the others…</p><p>In fact, she’s not late at all when she joins the group. Shadis isn’t even here yet. Perhaps stumbling on Bertholdt and Reiner’s fight was a minor stroke of good fortune... She glances around the area to see if Annie has arrived, and spots her at the edge of the crowd as per usual, with her arms folded and her eyes fixed on the ground. </p><p>What in the world was that all about? Sasha knows that friends fight- she gets yelled at all the time by Ymir, and Jean, and- well, everyone, really… But it’s usually over petty things, like her asking them if she can finish their soup because they take so <em> long </em>to eat it. They rarely sound as genuinely angry as Bertholdt did at that moment, and never look as torn up.</p><p>Just as Shadis arrives to bark commands at them all, Sasha spots the two of them appearing out of the trees. Reiner pointedly goes to stand next to Connie, while Bertholdt disappears to the very back of the crowd, gripping onto his elbows and staring blankly upwards.</p><p>Sasha gulps. It doesn’t look like they’re going to be partners with each other…</p><p>“Alright, shitheads, you all need to get into your pairs!” Shadis roars from the front of the group. “And no, Arlert, there can’t be any tagalongs, there’s an even number of you all! I don’t care if you have to partner up with the person you hate most, just keep your mouths shut and do what you’re told!”</p><p>Reiner places a hand on Connie’s shoulder and says something jovially to him- Connie grins and nods. </p><p>Sasha sneaks a glance at Bertholdt’s face, and sees that his jaw is set. </p><p>Everyone else starts pairing up too, latching onto friends as quickly as possible- in Ymir and Krista's case, it's instantaneous. Sasha swings her hands by her sides, watching Bertholdt stand on his own with everyone ignoring him. She spots Annie glancing in his direction for half a second, but she seems to decide against being his partner and moves towards Mina.</p><p>Sasha makes a decision.</p><p>Bertholdt's eyebrows raise when she hops in front of him.</p><p>“H-Hey… Bertholdt?” Sasha wrings her hands anxiously. “Would you… wanna be partners?”</p><p>She doesn’t know what to expect- will he yell at her? Tell her to get bent? Question her sanity? It's not like him at all, but a lot of people tend to do that to her, sometimes all three things in the same breath. </p><p>“Huh?” Instead of doing any of them, he does <em>another </em>thing that she gets a lot from others- he gives her an odd look. “You want me to be your partner?”</p><p>Sasha bobs her head in affirmation and bounces on the balls of her feet. Bemusement shows in Bertholdt's eyes, but he shakes his head slightly as if to clear it. “Yeah. Sorry, yeah, sure. We- we  can be partners.”</p><p>His voice is quiet again, so much so that Sasha almost doesn’t believe that it was him who was so loud before. “Great! I’ll go and get the maps from Shadis- I’ll, um, be back in a second!”</p><p>She bounds off before he can say anything else, not sure why asking such a simple question has her feeling so nervous. When she approaches Shadis, he glares down at her darkly.</p><p>“I know this is like asking a Titan to go for a vegetable dish over a human, but don’t do anything stupid out there, Braus,” he tells her. “Who’s the poor soul you’re partnered with?”</p><p>“Bertholdt, sir!” </p><p>“<em>Hoover? </em>” Shadis snorts. “Bless him, what did he ever do to deserve that?”</p><p>“I’ll be a great partner!” Sasha protests. “Trust me, sir, we’ll take the shortest time to reach the village.”</p><p>Shadis points a finger at her. “Knowing what you’re like, I wouldn’t put a wager on that. Now take this and get back to your partner.” </p><p>Sasha’s shoulders slump as she takes the map and compass from him. She prepares to launch into hearty complaints about the big asshole upon her return to Bertholdt, but one glimpse of his unfocused gaze silences her pretty quickly.</p><p>“Alright, you’ll be leaving at staggered intervals!” Shadis roars. “Get into line! Braun, Springer, you’re up first!”</p><p>“Aw, lovers’ spat?” Ymir taunts, when she notices Bertholdt and Reiner apart.</p><p>“Can it,” Reiner growls. “Let’s go, Connie.”</p><p>Bertholdt stares at the ground. Catching sight of his expression, Ymir opens her mouth, presumably to lay down some more taunts, but Krista grabs her arm and pulls her to the side just in time. Sasha blows out a sigh of relief. Nothing could be worse to a sad person than an ill-timed jab from Ymir.</p><p>Biting her lip, Sasha tries to think about what she can do to pull Bertholdt out of his slump. Maybe she should start making jokes. And she has many funny stories up her sleeve, as well as tales of daring hunting exploits, surely they’ll be distracting enough…</p><p>Sasha turns to him, mouth opening to engage her gift of repartee, but again, her mind falters when she looks at him. This is not going to be easy. She fumbles with the map and pretends to examine it to avoid looking awkward. It all looks like a bunch of complicated squiggles and lines to her… </p><p>“Braus! Hoover!” Shadis snaps. “To the front! And Hoover, though I’d be entirely sympathetic to you if you did, try not to strangle Braus.”</p><p><em> I sure hope this goes okay. </em>Sasha stumbles forwards with Bertholdt dragging his feet along behind her, fiddling with the string of the compass. Dealing with someone so downcast isn't exactly her forte...</p><p>As they step into the trees, she shakes her head at herself and grits her teeth determinedly. There's only one thing she can do now. She's holding the map and compass, so she'll have to lead the way and get them through this task. It's a tall order, but she's sure she can get it done. Besides, it's about time she repaid Bertholdt for all those times she's harassed him in the classroom, begging him to help her with all the assignments she couldn't wrap her head around... </p><p>Yeah, she can do it. This should be easy enough...</p><p>…</p><p>Except it isn’t.</p><p>Sasha marched into the forest with as much confidence as she could muster, but now, hours into their expedition, it’s quickly wearing away. Feeling completely clueless isn’t a foreign sentiment to her, but now it’s worse, because she’s been <em> pretending </em>she knows what she’s doing all this time.</p><p>She and Bertholdt are wandering around in what Sasha presumes are circles, because she’s <em> sure </em>she’s seen the same oddly shaped tree stump at least twice before. Her eyes flicker helplessly across the map as though she’ll sudden gain comprehension of it whilst trudging through the cold, soggy air and greyness. She couldn’t even understand it while asking Marco for help seven times… how will she be able to do it now?</p><p><em> Why </em>is she still navigating? This is hopeless! The best thing to do would have been to give up her charade and hand the map to Bertholdt at the very beginning. She’s surprised he hasn’t suggested that yet. </p><p>Well no, actually, she isn’t. She's reminded of why she's even doing this when she gets a look at him- it’s clear that Bertholdt isn’t mentally present at all, and is following her without really thinking. Sasha wishes he would snap out of his funk. Taking responsibility is not something she’s used to and not something she thinks she’ll get good at.</p><p>It’s almost embarrassing at this point, she’s a hunter! She grew up in forested lands, she should know what she’s doing!</p><p>Hm… maybe this is the fault of the stupid map. Maybe she needs to forget about it and rely on her instincts to get her forwards- yeah! Sasha’s almost certain that’s what’s holding her back. If she turns to her senses instead of burying her face in the map, that’ll probably help them get forwards. That was how she learned as a kid, right? </p><p>“Oh, I got it!” she says out loud, to play it up a little. “<em>That’s </em>where we go!”</p><p>She peeks to her right to see if Bertholdt is convinced, but it seems like she could say literally anything at this point without it reaching him. He’s still out of it. Sasha reaches for a blackberry and pops it ruefully in her mouth, before returning her focus to her surroundings.</p><p>Okay… everything looks rather indistinct at the moment. It’s all foggy forest.</p><p>A sage thought crosses her mind- <em>m</em><em>ove forwards, you can’t go wrong with moving forwards</em>. So that’s what she does.</p><p>Cleaning her boots will be a pain when this is over, Sasha laments, wrinkling her nose at the coating of mud on her boots. But then again, she'll be glad when it's over and they've reached their destination. </p><p>If it gets really bad maybe she can scale a tree and see if she can spot anyone else from the cadets. They all left at different times, but surely others will get lost too. Connie is as inept at her in most situations, and he and Reiner always goof off when they're with each other, so maybe they're in a similar sort of boat right now. And Eren tries hard, but he definitely doesn't have the patience to properly consult a map... But he <em>does </em>have Armin or Mikasa with him. They're probably keeping his head straight. </p><p>Oh, well... The world won't end if Sasha and Bertholdt are late to their destination. Shadis will probably be incredibly annoying about it, but that's par for the course at this point. She can handle this. </p><p>Squelch, squelch, rustle, rustle… Maybe she's crazy, but Sasha finally feels like progress is being made. Is she actually doing it? Has she led them in the right direction?</p><p>Despite what Shadis might say, it turns out all Sasha needed to do was to fall back on what she trusted most, herself! They’ll get to the village in no time, and maybe Bertholdt will cheer up and praise her for getting them there- </p><p>Hold on.</p><p>“<em> Wait! </em>” Sasha draws to a halt. Mindless horror strikes her. She thrusts a hand out to stop Bertholdt too. “It’s not- surely it’s not-”</p><p>Finally, her words seem to get to Bertholdt. “What’s wrong, Sasha? Are you okay?”</p><p>“No… it can’t be…”</p><p>Pain… suffering… they’re all constants in this miserable world, along with-</p><p><em> "That goddamn tree-stump!” </em> Sasha stomps her foot. “ <em> How can we be here again! </em>” </p><p>A flurry of birds explodes from the trees at her furious cry.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Bertholdt says in alarm. “What's wrong?"</p><p>Sasha turns to him miserably. How cruel. The moment she began hoping was the moment it all came crashing down...</p><p>It's over, isn't it? She can’t believe she’s failed like this, she can never call herself a country girl again. And there she was earlier, thinking she might get a good training experience for once... “Okay, um… don’t be mad, okay?” </p><p>“Why would I be mad?” Bertholdt says. </p><p>“Because… because…” Sasha’s lower lip juts out. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing!”</p><p>He blinks. “You don’t know…?”</p><p>“I don’t get this stupid map! I’ve been trying to get us forwards with it, but we keep going around and around in circles, so I put it down! And I thought we were making progress, but this- stupid- tree- stump-” She punctuates each word with a kick to it. “Keeps getting in the way!”</p><p>Bertholdt looks from Sasha, to the map, to the tree stump.</p><p>“I’m sorry, okay!” she wails. “It's my fault! I should’ve asked you to help me earlier! I was being too cocky and thought I could handle it myself! And now we’re stuck in the forest and it’s getting darker and the others are probably much further ahead and we’re stuck by this <em> stump! </em>”</p><p>This point in time would be the cue for anyone else in the cadets to completely lose their shit with her- Ymir would probably take her into a headlock and scrub her scalp with her knuckles until Sasha wailed, Jean would go into a yelling fit about how incompetent she was, Mikasa would give her a long, deadpan stare that wilted her insides...</p><p>But Bertholdt says, “I’m so sorry, Sasha.”</p><p>“... Huh?” </p><p>What?</p><p>What’s <em> wrong </em> with him, she thinks, gaping. <em> Is he crazy? </em></p><p>“I... I should’ve been paying attention.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been way too caught up in my own head, I should’ve been helping you. This is meant to be a team effort. I’m- I’m really sorry.”</p><p>Sasha never thought there’d be a time she <em> wanted </em>someone to be mad at her. “Bertholdt, you don’t need to...”</p><p>“You can hand the map over to me,” he says. His smile is strained. “I’ll work out what we need to do. And I’ll tell Shadis it was my fault if we’re too late.”</p><p>The map slips from her hands to his. </p><p>"Hey…" Sasha says softly.</p><p>"I can see why you struggle with this," Bertholdt says in an attempt at levity, his eyes scanning the map. "But don't worry too much. Map-reading isn't exactly necessary in a fight against Titans, so you'll be fine."</p><p>This is <em>so </em>much worse than getting yelled at. <em>I'm not mad, just disappointed </em>is bad, but <em>I'm not mad, I'm just guilty and I want to make you feel better </em>is pure pain.</p><p>“Bertholdt, I'm- <em>yargh!</em>”</p><p>She jumps miles out of her skin as something cold drips against her neck. Bertholdt looks at her with a frown, but quickly understands her reaction when a droplet of water falls on his nose.</p><p>His eyes travel upwards and he sighs.  “Of course… It’s raining.”</p><p>Sasha senses something in the air and cringes.</p><p>“Not only that,” she moans. Now? Really? Right now? “It’s going to- <em> aaaaghh! </em>”</p><p>She jumps again as a heavy rumble echoes through the sky.</p><p>Is there any way this could get worse?</p><p>"It didn't <em> look </em> stormy before… Just our luck!" she whines. "Though I heard Connie say something about it earlier to Jean! He was complaining in the morning, he said, '<em>the position of his legs definitely means there's going to be thunder'." </em></p><p>Bertholdt frowns. "Whose legs?" </p><p>“I don’t know! But whoever’s legs it was- damn them!” Sasha slumps over in dejection, perhaps she should sink into the mud and stay there. “This is such a disaster…”</p><p>With a sigh, Bertholdt folds up the map. “Maybe we should take a break."</p><p>"Y- You think we should?" Sasha says. "But I've delayed us so much..."</p><p>"We can find some shelter and work on our route,” Bertholdt says. "We've been walking around for a long time anyway, we should take a moment."</p><p>"Oh- okay, then!" It’s high time Sasha does something useful, so she perks up and says, “I saw a small cave not too far away here! It’d be a pretty good place to catch our breath.”</p><p>The edges of Bertholdt’s mouth quirk upwards and he gestures slightly, suggesting she should take them there. With a renewed sense of vigour, accompanied by the urge to make up for everything she’s done so far, Sasha kicks the tree stump (hopefully for the last time) and sets off.</p><p>She tries not to keep peering at him in her peripheral vision, but she can’t help it. </p><p><em>He's not okay,</em> she thinks. <em>What did he and Reiner argue about, to get him like this? They’re good friends… surely it couldn’t have been too hurtful… </em></p><p>It doesn’t take long to reach the shelter, and thankfully there’s enough space for the both of them, though Bertholdt’s long limbs don’t have much freedom to stretch out. Sasha heaves a sigh of relief as she sits down- she’s run till sunset before, so it’s not like she’s physically spent, but the constant befuddlement of navigation has her brain tired.</p><p>The thrashing of rain against the roof of the shelter feels almost steadying.</p><p>A crack of thunder causes her to almost break her back against the wall of the cave behind her. Trying to laugh off her ridiculous reaction, Sasha turns to Bertholdt, but he isn’t paying attention to her. He has his knees drawn to his chin and the map spread out in front of him.  </p><p>“So,” Sasha says, locking her fingers together and staring at them. “Have you figured out where we’re off to next?”</p><p>Bertholdt nods slowly. “I, um- I think so. There was a small pond on the way to this cave- that’s over here. So if I’m right… we have to go this way.”</p><p>Sasha nods, though she doesn’t look towards where his finger is pointed. </p><p>“I should’ve paid more attention when we were learning how to read these,” she sighs. </p><p>“Hey, don’t worry about it. You didn’t take us far off course.”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean,” Sasha mumbles. “It’s just… Ugh."</p><p>His eyes flicker towards her questioningly.</p><p>"You seem like you’re having a hard time," Sasha explains meekly. "I didn’t want you to feel too stressed out by all this, so I tried doing everything by myself. I thought I should take responsibility for once. Guess I ended up stressing you out more in the end.”</p><p>Bertholdt's brow creases. “Sasha…”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she says, smiling sheepishly at him. “Really.”</p><p>“Please don’t say that,” Bertholdt says. “You didn’t have to… you didn’t have to do that for me. I should’ve been focusing, this was on me. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Cut yourself some slack,” Sasha says tentatively, because he sounds ashamed. “You’ve been on point all the time so far, way more than me, you were bound to have a blip at some point.”</p><p>Bertholdt shakes his head. His gaze hardens. “I can’t afford that. I- I <em>need</em> to focus.”</p><p>“Come on, you’re always focused! You’re pay attention even when Reus is giving his lectures on interior politics, or when Shadis goes on and on about proper defensive stances in combat- that’t not a sign of a slacker!" Her laugh is uncertain. "You know, you're allowed to have emotions, even if you're a soldier.”</p><p>She says it with as much pep in her voice as she can muster, but it clearly isn’t enough. </p><p>“There’s no room for my personal feelings in the situation we're in,” Bertholdt says. It feels like he’s talking to himself more than her. “I can’t let myself…”</p><p>His Adam’s apple slides up his throat and he rubs his jaw. </p><p>“Can’t let yourself what?” Sasha says, but Bertholdt shakes his head mutely, mouthing an apology. “If you ask me, I think you’re being way too harsh on yourself. I mean, we’re not on the battlefield right now. We’re lost in a big forest and hiding in a cave from the rain.”</p><p>Her words are punctuated by another resounding boom of thunder. </p><p><em> What did you argue with Reiner about? </em>The question bounces around her brain, but she still can’t bring herself to ask it.</p><p>“Well... I’m here,” Sasha says instead, at Bertholdt’s continued silence. “If you ever want to get anything off your chest. Though I’m not the best at stuff like this, Marco’s probably your best bet if you want good advice- actually, Ymir’s also good at talking sense into people, though going up to her is not for the faint-hearted. Honestly, she teases you enough already, you probably should steer well clear of her. Anyway- what was I saying?”</p><p>She meets Bertholdt’s eyes- there’s still that unsettling look of shame. Now it’s even more pronounced.</p><p>“You can talk to me,” Sasha says quietly. “And it's not a problem or anything, it's not like you're a burden. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say!”</p><p>Bertholdt jerks his head forwards. Sasha can’t tell if it’s a convulsive movement or an expression of thanks, but she doesn’t ask for clarification. He’s closed off at the best of times, so she doubts she’ll get many words out of him now.</p><p>He brings his knees closer to his chest. Sasha wonders if she’ll be able to do anything right today- her words were meant to be <em> comforting...</em></p><p>"Thank you, Sasha," he says suddenly, surprising her. She has to strain her ears to hear him in the din of the storm. "I... I appreciate your..."</p><p>Sasha waits patiently, but no other words come, so she says, "It's all good. It's the least I can do!"</p><p>Bertholdt's smile is feeble and fleeting, but it's there. His gaze returns to the map and he traces his finger lightly across the name of the village they're going to. </p><p>A idea pops into Sasha's head.</p><p>When she needs comfort, there’s one thing she always turns to.</p><p>“Hey,” she says, fumbling with her belt. “I picked up some berries before we set off. Take a few.”</p><p>Predictably, he shakes his head. “It’s okay... I’ve got my own rations.”</p><p>“You got nothing that tastes as good as these. They’re real sweet,” Sasha promises him. And then her face brightens. “I totally forgot! I also have this with me!”</p><p>She pulls out a hunk of bread from another pouch.</p><p>“Krista gave it to me this morning because she didn’t want it!” Sasha says. “I thought she was crazy to give up a whole bread roll. But you know what’s crazier?”</p><p>“That it's lasted that long without you eating it...?”</p><p>“Yep!” Sasha holds out the roll. “I was keeping it for a backup snack, but I’ve got plenty of other things to keep me going. It’s cold, but bread tastes good no matter what temperature it’s at. Have this and some berries, it’ll cheer you right up!”</p><p>“I can’t,” Bertholdt says weakly. Sasha rolls her eyes, she sensed that from a mile off.</p><p>“Sure you can,” she says exasperatedly. “It’s not every day I give away bread, you know, you should be grateful! And you can’t give up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”</p><p>She makes sure her voice sounds as tough as possible- like Ymir sounds when she’s drilling something into Sasha’s head. So confident and insistent that Bertholdt can’t possibly refuse. She feels kind of bad for taking advantage of Bertholdt’s innate passiveness, but desperate times call for desperate measures...</p><p>Does being offered bread warrant such a powerful internal battle? Sasha wonders about Bertholdt, sometimes- the bread would be gone in seconds if she was in his position, but by the look on his face it’s as though he’s pushing a knife towards her chest instead of reaching out for some food.</p><p>“Finally,” she says, when he takes it from her. “I was getting the urge to take it for myself.”</p><p>“... Thank you, Sasha,” he whispers. “You don’t need to give me the-”</p><p>“Berries,” Sasha says firmly, holding out a generous handful. “Take them.”</p><p>It’s another struggle, but he eventually concedes to her again.</p><p>“They taste good, right?” Sasha says, as he starts chewing on them slowly. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t keep trying to be polite about it?”</p><p>"They're delicious," Bertholdt mumbles. "Thank you. But you didn't-"</p><p>"Yes, I did need to," Sasha says loudly. "My life <em>depended </em>on giving you that food. Does that make you feel better?"</p><p>Bertholdt hides his smile in his knees.</p><p>Sasha is simultaneously relieved at her progress, and furious at herself at the same time. Why did it take her this long to think of food as a solution? Why did she think of <em>map-reading </em>before she thought of nourishment? </p><p>"We should get going," Bertholdt murmurs, when his bread is gone. "The others will be well ahead of us by now."</p><p>Sasha gulps down her own helping of food and pats her belly. "Lead the way!"</p><p>They gather their things together and pull their hoods over their head. Sasha exhales as Bertholdt takes control of the map. Everything ought to go more smoothly from now on.</p><p>Bertholdt moves to leave the cave first, but before he steps outside he stops, half-crouched over, and turns his head towards her.</p><p>"What's up?" Sasha asks. "Did you leave something behind?"</p><p>She glances over her shoulder, but the ground is empty.</p><p>"No," Bertholdt says. "I didn't. It's nothing. Sorry. I'm sorry."</p><p>He turns back quickly and exits the cave, being careful not to bang his head on the roof and unfolding his limbs awkwardly.  Sasha smiles at the sight and follows, as another bang of thunder resonates through the air. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yeah i wasn't sure on this one... it feels really weird. also i worried about if i got sasha's voice down or if this was too waffley, but it's out i guess... hope you liked?? and thanks for reading :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Connie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi guys!</p><p>oh god i'm so sorry for the increased length in these lol, they were meant to be relatively snappy but i keep writing too much ghghgh but thanks for continuing to read this anyway! and for those who've commented, i really appreciate it, it's always a big motivating factor!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> I’ll get through this. </em>Connie tells himself this over and over again, desperately trying to keep control over his emotions. He has a duty to uphold, and that requires sacrifices. He’s known that from the beginning. As a soldier he must bite his tongue and march forwards through anything, even when it hurts like hell. </p><p>“Wait, Eren!” Armin cries from outside. “It’s not a good idea to use that as a sled- <em> you’ll hurt yourself!</em>”</p><p>A gleeful cackle answers him. Connie’s eyes flicker up to the window, just in time to see Eren Yeager running across the snow with a large block of wood in his arms. Armin follows moments after, wrapped up so tightly in layers Connie doesn’t know how he can move.</p><p>His shoulders sag. Sledding. Of course. First it was Jean and Marco planning to roll a giant snowball down the hill (“<em> it’ll be as tall as the mess hall!” Jean had yelled </em> ), then it was Ymir having an extremely perilous snowboard race with Sasha, and now it’s <em> sledding. </em></p><p>“Um… Connie? Did you understand what I was saying?” a quiet voice speaks up from beside him.</p><p>With a start, Connie returns his gaze to the textbook in front of him, and then to the person trying to help him make sense of it. Bertholdt fidgets with a pen, looking at him sheepishly.</p><p>What is Connie doing, while everyone else is outside having fun? He’s <em> studying. </em>He was the only one in the Corps who failed the written test last week, even <em> Sasha </em> passed (only just, but she still got the score she needed). That’s why he’s here now, inside the barracks on the first snow day of the year instead of rolling a big ass snowball with Jean and Marco or sledding with Eren.</p><p>Despite his resentment, he feels a jab of guilt when he sees Bertholdt’s nervous expression. Everyone else rejected Connie upon his pleas for help, even Marco and Armin, who both apologetically stated that they needed a break from all the studying they had been doing. Bertholdt was the only one to agree- after just a <em> little </em>bit of guilt tripping- so the least Connie can do is pay attention to him.</p><p>“Sorry, man, I’m with you,” Connie says. “I definitely agree with what you’re saying. You couldn’t be more right.”</p><p>Bertholdt arches his eyebrows.</p><p>“Okay, fine,” Connie mumbles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I zoned out when you said- um- well- let’s just say I zoned out. Sorry.”</p><p>“Oh… that’s okay,” Bertholdt says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll just go over it again, I guess. Um, so, the field tactics guide basically says-”</p><p>Connie vows he’s going to listen this time. He resolutely refuses to focus on the figure he can see out of the window in his peripheral vision, bent down in the snow. He’s going to listen to Bertholdt explaining things to him and he’s damn well going to understand it all and pass the retake of the written test with flying colours.</p><p>“- it’s written in a convoluted way, so, er, to make it easier to understand, I would look at it like this…” </p><p>Oddly, the content is actually starting to make more sense to Connie. When Armin explains things he tends to use flowery language and terminology Connie has never heard before, and Marco is similarly technical.  Jean is terrible at teaching in general, because he can’t go more than five seconds without blowing his top at Connie for losing focus. Bertholdt, on the other hand, aside from some stuttering, is very straightforward and simple when explaining things- probably because he doesn’t like speaking that much.</p><p>In the middle of listening to his explanation, though (he <em> is </em>listening), Connie notices something. The person outside is standing in an odd position, drawing his arm back. Almost as though he’s about to-</p><p>
  <em> Thud. </em>
</p><p>Bertholdt jumps and glances towards the window. Snow drips down the glass, and suddenly a grinning face appears only inches away from them.</p><p>“Hey!” Connie yells, jumping to his feet in outrage and accidentally knocking Bertholdt’s pencil out of his hand. “What the hell was that for, Reiner?”</p><p>“Don’t mind me!” Reiner’s ears and nose are bright red from the cold. He tips a wink at Bertholdt, whose face goes a similar colour as he bends down to retrieve his pencil. “Focus on your studying! C’mon, Bertl, you’ve gotta get some discipline into your students!”</p><p>“Why, you little…” Connie growls, as Reiner runs from the window. "Hasn't he got better things to do?"</p><p> Bertholdt covers his face with his hands in a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation, rather like a parent would when their child is being rowdy. “Sorry about him. He, um- he loves it when it snows.”</p><p>“Hmph.” Connie glowers. He loves a good snow assault, but not when it’s aimed at him. “Let’s just keep going.”</p><p>“R- Right. What was I saying?” Bertholdt reaches for the textbook and fidgets with his pencil. “So…”</p><p>Connie glares suspiciously out of the window, but Reiner is no longer in sight. Hopefully that means he’s expended all his idiocy for the time being and will leave them alone. </p><p>He sighs and presses his hand against his chin as Bertholdt resumes his explanation (a little more flustered after the interruption). Of <em>course </em>someone had come to try and piss him off, he expected no less of his friends... He's just surprised it hasn't happened sooner.</p><p>The sky has taken on a faint orange hue- is the sun setting already? He won’t have any time at all to go outside at this rate… It’ll be nightfall and dinner soon, and Connie’s sure all the talk in the mess hall will be about the <em> fun </em>everyone had today. Ymir won’t shut up for a second... </p><p>This is the <em> worst. </em>Why is he the only one suffering right now? Actually, it’s not only him… Connie notices Bertholdt’s gaze dart to the window and out at the snowy grounds, he can’t be having too much fun either. But maybe that’s to Connie’s advantage- he should ask if they can take a break, Bertholdt is a lot less strict than the others-</p><p>He barely opens his mouth to say a word when another loud thump sounds across the barracks. </p><p>A vein pops in his forehead.</p><p>“Reiner!” Connie hollers, as a familiar face pops up in the window again. “You son of a bitch!”</p><p>Bertholdt clutches his heart, having once again jolted at the sudden noise. “Will you <em> quit </em>it?”</p><p>Reiner gives a loud crow of laughter, flicking up two snow-coated, gloved middle fingers and dancing backwards. The bastard hasn’t got a care in the world… He needs to be taught a lesson. Connie turns towards Bertholdt pleadingly, he wants nothing more than to get out there and pelt Reiner with snow till he drops. </p><p>His tutor is staring out of the window at the big idiot- whether it’s with irritation or fondness is hard to tell. Maybe he’s dead inside after having to deal with this sort of behaviour for so long…</p><p> When he notices Connie’s eyes on him, he flushes. </p><p>“C’mon,” Connie begs, sensing that he has the upper hand. Bertholdt looks on the verge of caving already. “Let me go out. Just for a bit!”</p><p>“I- well- you <em> can, </em>if you want, but…” Bertholdt gestures helplessly towards the textbook. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea? Your retest is soon, and we haven’t got through enough content...”</p><p>Though he’s half-way out of his seat and ready to rumble, Connie knows, deep in his miserable heart, that Bertholdt is right. His entire body deflates.</p><p><em> Damn </em>it. He can’t afford to fail this resit. “Okay, fine.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I know this is pretty shit,” Bertholdt says sheepishly. </p><p>“Nah, don’t be. This is on me,” Connie says glumly. Who would’ve thought there would be consequences for all the time he’s wasted messing around instead of focusing in lessons? “I’m all yours, teach.”</p><p>“I’ll try and be quicker...”</p><p>Connie waves a dismissive hand. “Stop that, you’re making me feel guilty. You’ve been great, just keep doing what you're doing.”</p><p>Bertholdt smiles bashfully at him and reaches out to turn a page. His smiles are odd, Connie thinks- they spread out slowly, almost like he’s holding them back. It’s the opposite to Reiner, who beams widely and proudly and sometimes devilishly. Connie wonders about Bertholdt sometimes- is he more outgoing when the two of them are alone? Probably. Because otherwise it's odd to imagine someone so quiet being so close with someone so outgoing and friendly.</p><p>Great, now he's going on a tangent <em>thinking</em> about Bertholdt instead of actually listening to him. No wonder he's labelled a hopeless case.</p><p>When he tunes back in, Bertholdt is talking about classic types of formations when dealing with Titans. It's knowledge most useful for the Survey Corps, but they're required to know information about all three units anyway. It's making sense, except for a small thing.</p><p>"Hey, I got a question about one of the last things you said," Connie says. </p><p>It's almost embarrassing how pleased Bertholdt looks, like he's glad he's got physical proof of Connie paying attention to him. "Sure, go ahead."</p><p>Connie opens his mouth to speak, but closes it just as abruptly when he notices something.</p><p>He grits his teeth.</p><p>"Hey," Reiner says. His voice is deep and sultry as he gazes up at Connie through the window. "Fancy seeing you here."</p><p>He's got that damn grin on his face- the devilish one.</p><p>“I swear,” Connie says. His lips stretch out into a slightly mad grimace and his fingers dig into the wood of the wall behind him. “On my life. I am going to… "</p><p>“What?” Reiner says innocently, squeezing a fistful of snow into a ball. “Ooh, there’s fire in your eyes, cadet. I like it.”</p><p>“You are such a hassle,” Bertholdt tells him. But he sounds so half-hearted about it Connie knows he'll go completely ignored. “Cut it out, will you?”</p><p>Reiner bends down to collect even more snow. The ball in his hand is reaching an alarming size, so much so he has to use two hands to contain it. “Come out and make me, Bertl.”</p><p>He flashes his teeth in a challenging smirk. Despite his snowball being aimed at Connie’s fragile temper, he doesn’t take his eyes off Bertholdt. </p><p>“... You know what?” Bertholdt says, setting the book down on his lap. "Do it at your own risk."</p><p>Reiner raises his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? And what’s that risk, Instructor Hoover?”</p><p>Bertholdt looks from Connie, to the textbook, back to Connie, to Reiner. He seems to battle with himself for a second, taking in all his options. And then he says, “If you do this, both of us will come out and get you.”</p><p>Delight bursts inside Connie, all previous thoughts of taking responsibility over his studies evaporating at the mere mention of getting revenge against Reiner. He shoots Bertholdt a triumphant grin at him that’s returned timidly- it’s muted, but it’s there. </p><p>“I love you, man!” he yells. “You hear that, Reiner? You better watch your back!”</p><p>Reiner hums thoughtfully. “Well, Bertl, when you put it like that…”</p><p>
  <em> Thud. </em>
</p><p>Bertholdt presses his fingertips to his eyelids. Connie watches him with bated breath, waiting…</p><p>“Alright, let’s go,” he says finally. “I know this goes against what I was saying, but... we can take Reiner out quickly and get back to this, right?"</p><p>“You bet,” Connie says with a grin. He slaps Bertholdt on the back and jumps to his feet. “Reiner, just you wait!”</p><p>Reiner’s laughter rings from outside as Connie and Bertholdt pull on their gloves and boots in preparation for all-out war. When they’re ready, they give each other a firm nod as allies against this evil force, and burst outside.</p><p>The air is brisk, and clouds of white puff from their lips. Their boots crunch through the snow towards a stretch of untouched ground and they bend to gather their ammo. Reiner watches their approach with a glint in his eyes.</p><p>“You might have numbers on your side, but you don’t have my good looks, so that’ll automatically bring down your morale!” he announces, scooping up handfuls of his own snow and packing them together. </p><p>“You make no sense!” Connie yells. “Take this, jackass!”</p><p>Strength is not Connie’s forte. Nor is aim. But he has speed, and his burst of acceleration lets him lob a snowball right at Reiner’s chest before he can skip out of the way. Reiner’s only reaction is to burst out laughing, sounding a little giddy. </p><p>“Nice one!” Bertholdt says. He’s got a rare look of determination in his eyes as forms his own snowball. It’s how he looks in training sometimes, when diving forwards with ODM gear at full speed or slicing his way through cardboard Titans or lunging at an opponent in melee practising. </p><p>Connie suddenly has no worries about their odds against Reiner.</p><p>“Ahahaha!” Reiner cackles, as he receives a hard and fast snowball to the shoulder. “Damn it, Bertl! Take this!”</p><p>He sends one flying right at Bertholdt’s stomach, but it’s dodged easily- Connie grins, they’re definitely going to win this. Reiner doesn’t have time to defend himself against Connie’s missile to his back.</p><p>“You should be worrying about your own morale!” Connie yells in joy. Reiner stumbles and swears at him. “You big brick shithouse!”</p><p>Full of mock righteousness, Reiner says, “Don’t get cocky! Soldiers never give up!” </p><p>Inexplicably, Bertholdt pauses, and because of it, his attempt at a rear assault fails and he gets struck in the elbow. </p><p>“You let your guard down!” Connie admonishes him. “Come on, get moving, we’ve got to crush him!”</p><p>Bertholdt nods, looking a little less focused than Connie would like. He quickly wakes up when another snowball comes hurtling his way, however, and returns his attention to vigorous scooping to form a counter attack.</p><p>The sun dips lower as they battle, bathing them and the snow in a pleasant glow, but also serving as an ominous reminder that time is passing. A tiny voice in his mind that sounds eerily like Keith Shadis tells Connie that he’s being a complete fool right now, and that he will regret wasting this time on snowball fighting instead of studying. That he's walked right into the enemy's trap by falling for his taunts. He drowns out the voice as easily as he drowns out any other logical thoughts by shoving snow down Reiner’s jumper.</p><p>“YOU LITTLE-!” Reiner is in hysterics, maniacally hopping back and forth as ice drops down his back. "Fuck! It's so cold!"</p><p>“It's what you deserve!” Connie shouts jubilantly. “Finish him, Bertl!”</p><p>Bertholdt nods vigorously. “Will do!”</p><p>“No -No- Bertl- I surrender, I surrender!” Reiner is too overcome with manic giggles to fully articulate himself. </p><p>Bertholdt launches himself forwards. Connie would almost feel sorry for Reiner, but he’s a huge cackling asshole who is about to get what he deserves.</p><p>But at the very moment Reiner is about to get his comeuppance, something terrible and unprecedented happens. He manages to leap out of the way. And the person standing right in the trajectory of Bertholdt’s attack is…</p><p>“Connie!” Bertholdt looks horrified as Connie gets a mouthful of snow and is knocked cleanly over. “Connie, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t meant for- I didn’t mean to- <em> Reiner! </em>”</p><p>“You really thought you had me there, didn’t you?” Reiner roars with laughter. “You don’t get me that easily, Bertl!”</p><p>Connie clutches his jaw. He's surprised his head isn't smoking from the impact.</p><p>Bertholdt, who turns the colour of blood when someone makes too much eye contact with him, will probably be the reason he dies early. He’s sure there will be lasting damage. Was that a snowball? Or a bullet?</p><p>He raises his head and looks at Bertholdt.</p><p>“Connie… I am so sorry,” Bertholdt says slowly, stepping backwards. But his lips are twitching as though he’s desperately suppressing a laugh. “That was an accident, I swear… let’s just stay calm… remember who the enemy is…”</p><p>Connie gets to his feet.</p><p>"Come on, now- be reasonable-"</p><p>“Take <em> this! </em>”</p><p>Again, speed is Connie’s strong suit, and whilst Bertholdt is by no means slow, he can’t escape the the wiry boy dashing straight for him. His pleas die on his lips when Connie leaps on him and drops a handful of snow down his jumper too.</p><p>Bertholdt lets out a high-pitched yelp and starts dancing on the spot to shake the ice free. It sounds and looks so out of place coming from the giant that Reiner immediately collapses with laughter, and Connie follows suit, and then they’re all in hysterics, falling to the ground. Reiner and Connie laugh to the heavens, while Bertholdt bends over so his face is hidden. But from his shaking shoulders it’s clear he’s just as overcome as the both of them.</p><p>Though Bertholdt's little scream and dance keeps replaying in Connie's mind and sending him back into chuckles, calm eventually settles among them and they sit back to catch their breath. </p><p>“Really, Connie, I’m sorry,” Bertholdt says, one glove covering his mouth to hide some of his last giggles. “I should’ve known Reiner would dodge that.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it. I think I have a concussion, but I’ll manage,” Connie croaks. He grins at his comrade. “Anyway, I got you back, so we’re even.”</p><p>Bertholdt nods and gives a little shudder. “That move is lethal. Me and Reiner have always gone for the brute force approach, but maybe I should start changing things up.”</p><p>“If only moves like that would work on Titans,” Connie sighs theatrically. He starts scooping up snow and tossing it onto Bertholdt’s knees, eyes flitting up to the sky. “So... who do we say won that fight?”</p><p>“Me,” Reiner declares. “You and Bertl turned on each other, and I ended up getting what I wanted.”</p><p>“And what was it you wanted? To ruin my education?”</p><p>Reiner gestures towards Bertholdt. “I wanted to get that uptight asshole over there to laugh for once. He’s been all wound up for some reason, and I knew a snowball fight would wake him up, he always goes all out with those. Hell, he almost killed you.”</p><p>“Hmph, you can say that again,” Connie grouses. He goes to scatter more snow on Bertholdt and sees that he’s frowning.</p><p>“Oh, look, now he’s back to being moody again,” Reiner says with a smirk. “He’s just mad he didn’t get a definitive win.”</p><p>Connie rubs his jaw mournfully. “It would’ve been <em> very </em>definitive if you hadn’t stepped out of the way. Trust me.”</p><p>There’s no interjection from Bertholdt, presumably because he’s mature enough not to vocally be a sore loser. He instead gets to his feet, brushing Connie’s snow off of him.  “Hey, um, Connie? We should probably get back inside and start studying again.”</p><p>The sunset is at its peak, with the sky’s streaks of pink and orange at their deepest and darkest. Lanterns outside the barracks and the mess hall have flickered on and soon the others will be returning from whatever nonsense they’ve been up to today. The entirety of the 104th being back will be even more annoying and distracting than Reiner (though not by much), so Connie knows he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, as much as he’d like to sit here beneath the glowing sky and throw snow at his friends forever. </p><p>“Yeah, we should, shouldn’t we?” he says gloomily. “It was fun while it lasted, Reiner. You stupid asshole.”</p><p>“Come on, don’t tell me you’re leaving me out in the cold,” Reiner protests. </p><p>“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Connie says. “I’m about to go back in there and learn all and everything to ace my test. Isn’t that right, teach?”</p><p>He reaches his hand up (he has to <em> stretch </em>, why is Bertholdt so tall?) for a high five, but Bertholdt is too busy patting the snow off of his gloves to notice. Reiner sniggers as Connie drops his arm to rub the back of his neck.</p><p>“Come on,” Bertholdt says. “It’ll be dinner soon…”</p><p>Yawning, Connie makes to stand. “Aye aye, sir-”</p><p>“SPRINGER!”</p><p>The bellow startles Connie so badly his legs give way beneath him and he collapses back onto the snow. A spike of pain arcs up his back and Reiner has to bury his head in his hands to stop himself from cackling.</p><p>Shadis’ golden eyes bear into Connie from where he lies on the ground, hissing in pain. </p><p>“Instructor Shadis!” Connie says weakly. “How- how’s it going, sir?”</p><p>“It’s going very well for me. I daresay that isn’t the same for you.” Each step forwards is more menacing then than last. “Don’t you have to retake the written test, Springer? You got the lowest score in the class, so what the hell are you doing playing in the snow instead of studying?”</p><p>“Oh, I- you know, I was- I was-” Connie shoots Reiner a desperate look- this is his fault and he’s good at winning Shadis over, because the stupid asshole clears drills like it’s nothing, and is the type of person to get close to full marks in a test after spending lessons kicking Connie in the back of the leg. </p><p>Before Reiner can say anything to save him, <em> Bertholdt </em>speaks up. “C- Connie was studying really hard earlier, sir… he was just taking a little break...” </p><p>When Shadis looks at him, his eyes drop to the ground so quickly Connie is surprised they don’t fall out of their sockets. "What was that? You need to learn to speak up, Hoover."</p><p>"Sorry, sir- I was just saying that-" Bertholdt swallows, glancing at Connie and away again "- I was just saying that, um, Connie was studying a lot earlier, and he- he was only taking a short break from it."</p><p>Because of his shyness, Connie doubts Bertholdt has ever said more than two sentences to the instructor, but he gets away with a lot because he’s a model student. Maybe he can get away with this blatant lie now. “You’re helping him, are you?”</p><p>“Y- Yes, sir…” How is Bertholdt still sweating when it’s so cold? Connie doesn’t blame him, though, Shadis is the furthest thing from a cure to anxiety. “He’s, um- he’s actually getting to grips with it really quickly.”</p><p>Understandably, Shadis looks skeptical. Connie doesn’t know whether to feel grateful for the help or a little aggrieved at the extra pressure.  “Well, Springer, we’ll see if what he says is true. I expect to see results.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, you definitely will!” Connie stammers. “There’ll be a new and improved me sitting in your classes by the end of the weak, trust me!”</p><p>He earns himself a devastating scoff at this, but no further scolding- so Connie decides he is infinitely, endlessly grateful for Bertholdt. Shadis moves away from them, grumbling various words like <em> unlikely </em> and <em> idiotic </em> and <em> pain in the neck.  </em></p><p>The second he’s out of sight, Connie springs to his feet and pounces on Bertholdt in a hug. A startled noise escapes from his mouth at this, he doesn’t seem to know how to reciprocate. “What did I ever do to deserve you, man?”</p><p>“That was impressive, Bertl,” Reiner says, with pride in his voice. “I told you you could talk to him without collapsing.”</p><p>“You don’t have to sound so shocked.” Connie imagines Bertholdt’s blush spreading from his head to his toes.</p><p>“Don’t make a liar out of him, Connie,” Reiner says. “Now you gotta pass with top marks.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Connie promises. “I’m going to listen to every single thing you say, Bertl. I’ll instantly memorise it all. Trust me."</p><p>Bertholdt flashes a brief smile, but he doesn't look at Connie properly. "Don't worry about any of that. Let's just get back inside."</p><p>Doing a salute, Connie bounds back towards the barracks with new determination in his heart. He turns back expecting to see Bertholdt right behind him, but sees that he's still facing Reiner and saying something to him. Reiner looks up at him in bemusement.</p><p>"Hey, Bertl!" Connie yells. Bertholdt jumps and looks back at him. "You can't just hype me up and then abandon me! Come on!"</p><p>"Sorry! Coming!"</p><p>Connie slips into the barracks, cracking his knuckles in preparation for a new bout of intensive studying. Moments later Bertholdt follows- through the window Connie can see Reiner watching them, but he eventually picks himself up to move on, presumably to find someone else to irritate.</p><p>"Right," Connie says, when Bertholdt sits beside him again. "I never got to finish my question about those formations..."</p><p>"Yeah..." Bertholdt looks away from where the spot where Reiner just was and focuses on him. "Yeah, go ahead."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i do not know how to end chapters. and pacing who? :)))  connie is honestly a difficult one (that's why reiner plays a big role in this chap), he's a pretty nothing character to me so i hope this came across okay. why are all my chapter notes always so insecure LMFAO</p><p>connie using the nickname bertl bc hes naturally feeling closer which is of course bertholdt's worst nightmare &lt;3 pain &lt;3</p><p>so you might have noticed that the chapter count has increased to 9, this is because i was initially going to lump ymir and historia together (i find historia so incredibly boring i didn't think i'd be able to write for her alone) but i  realised that was me being lazy and it's a good challenge for a writer to write for someone they don't care about. i was also considering adding an extra chapter at the end from bertholdt's perspective so this might actually be 10 chapters long- what do you think, would you guys want that?</p><p>thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Marco</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i want to firmly and clearly state right now that i literally haven't got a single clue how odm gear actually works- i only picked it to be prevalent in this chapter for the d r a m a t i c p a r a l l e l s </p><p>i also have the same grasp of physics that an angler fish would have, so please do not expect any of this to be accurate lmao. if something is implausible, please pretend it isn't for the sake of imagery and my self-indulgence</p><p>thank you kindly for your comments again, and enjoy?!!??!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s easy to forget what their training is leading to sometimes. Deep inside, Marco knows he has a tough future ahead of him, and that one day he’ll need to be fully dedicated and focused on his goal of protecting the king and fighting the Titans. The work they’re doing now is building them up to be soldiers, to prepare them for a brutal world. It’s intense and humbling, and so there’s no room to not take things seriously-  </p><p>But damn, using ODM gear is fun. </p><p>Marco’s legs just barely brush the ground before soaring high into the air again. A smile plays across his lips as he springs forwards several feet and bounces across the side of a tree to gain even more height. Thrusting his arms forwards, he latches onto another branch and swings in an arc.</p><p>Despite some near misses in some of his drills today, he’s still full of a pleasant sense of adrenaline. Compared to endless laps and hand-to-hand combat practice and tactics lectures, ODM training is all play. It barely registers to any of them that this will be their escape method against human-eating monsters when they’re flinging themselves through the trees at top speed, often getting into races with each other and ignoring the activities they’re meant to carry out (much to Shadis’ fury). </p><p>Their task today is to complete various obstacles around the forest, in groups of three to avoid the sheer chaos of everyone swinging around in the same spot. Marco is with Bertholdt and Ymir, which is a mixed bag- being with Bertholdt isn’t a problem, he’s always been nice, but Ymir always rolls her eyes whenever Marco says anything (once she said something about him being as much of an infuriating goody two-shoes as Krista, but not as cute) and is… uncooperative, to say the least. </p><p>Bertholdt isn’t too far ahead of Marco, propelling himself forwards with great leaps. It’s silly, but Marco can’t help but feel a little awed when he watches him go. When Bertholdt uses the gear it’s as though he’s flying, never once scrambling in mid-air or mistiming his movements. Nobody understands how he and Jean and Reiner got to grips with it so quickly.  </p><p>“Ungh!”</p><p>Perhaps he should be paying more attention to his own maneuvering. Marco swears when no wire flies out from his gear and flails for a moment, using a burst of gas to keep him in the air. He’s sure he pressed the trigger, but maybe his finger slipped? Before he can plummet, he manages to send out another rope and swings clumsily on a branch. It’s the furthest thing from elegance, but at least he isn’t on the ground.  </p><p><em> That was embarrassing. </em>Fortunately Bertholdt wasn’t watching him, and Ymir isn’t nearby. </p><p>He decides to be more cautious when he resumes movement, so much so that when he reaches the platform on the tree where the other two are, Ymir gives him a withering look that's somehow more devastating than the ones before.</p><p>“You sure took your time,” she says.</p><p>“Sorry, I kinda messed up one of my-”</p><p>“Didn’t ask,” Ymir informs him, and then she’s off again, not bothering to ask either of them who wants to do the next obstacle first. She’s forceful with her movements, but also extremely fast. It’s a risky approach, and uses more gas, but she still gains a lot of ground. </p><p>Marco meets Bertholdt’s eyes, and the two of them share an embarrassed grin. </p><p>“What happened?" The sound of wires zipping and metal clinking should drown Bertholdt’s voice out, but everyone has learnt to strain their ears with him by now. "You were right behind me.”</p><p>“I messed up the timing when grappling back there,” Marco says sheepishly. “I nearly fell, but luckily I caught myself.”</p><p>Bertholdt fiddles with one of the gas canisters on his hip. “You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m all good, thanks,” Marco says. “I’ve still got a ways to go with ODM gear, I guess, heh...”</p><p>“Ah, nobody’s perfect,” Bertholdt mumbles. “You’ll get the hang of it.”</p><p>Marco smiles at him. He definitely <em> has </em>improved since the early days of training, especially since Jean started helping him out. And (though it’s mean to think) he’s at least doing better than a fair few of the cadets... like poor Eren.  Who Marco thinks is the one yelling furiously deeper in the forest… How can his voice carry all the way over here?</p><p>“Hey!” Ymir barks from the other side of the obstacle when she's finished. “Hurry up and get over here!”</p><p>At Bertholdt’s questioning look, Marco gestures forwards. “Go for it.”</p><p>Nodding, Bertholdt steps forward, fires his triggers and launches himself into the air. Marco watches him soar and swing through the obstacle as easily as he breathes. </p><p><em> Nobody's perfect</em>, <em> eh? </em>Marco thinks with a little smile. He's always happy to see his comrades thriving- the better soldiers they are, the more hope humanity has. </p><p>Ymir's voice rings out after a few minutes of waiting. "Oh, for fuck's sake, can't you speak up above a whisper? He's finished, Bodt! Move your ass!" </p><p>It appears Bertholdt has been trying to get his attention- but his voice definitely isn't one suited for shouting. Marco chuckles and steps up to the edge of the platform. </p><p>He's determined to limit his mistakes this time, so he spends an inordinate time analysing his first step- which is a mistake in itself, as in a battle situation he won't have time to think so much. Shaking his head at his own carelessness, Marco springs forwards and sends his wires flying forwards. </p><p>The first few obstacles go well for him- he  maintains height long enough to spring over several blockades, and manages to pull himself low again just in time to avoid a high bar that looks <em> very </em> capable of giving a nasty concussion. He pushes himself through a spiral like maze just up ahead, navigating the turns without so much as a hitch, all while being conservative with his gas. Sure, he might be a little shaky when swinging, but what matters is that he's releasing his wires in time and advancing towards his target at a good pace.  This one has been <em> much </em>better than the others. </p><p>The real challenge is up ahead. It's a long metal tube, a tight spot that requires complete perfection with timing to slide through. Marco dreads to think of his bloody nose if he doesn't get this down. </p><p>He hurls himself forwards, but just as quickly has to bounce backwards as he loses all control of his swing- it’s like he’s dangling from a cliffside from a rope rather than being secure in his movement.  Shit, and he's been doing so well.</p><p>Swallowing and shaking his head to focus himself, Marco swings himself forwards again, not giving himself time to panic. When he aims forwards this time, he manages to slide right through the tube and out the other end, where Bertholdt and Ymir are waiting. </p><p>He gets a tentative smile from Bertholdt, while Ymir groans, “You take fucking forever.”</p><p>“... It wasn’t that long,” Bertholdt mumbles, to Marco’s surprise (and Ymir’s displeasure). “How was it?”</p><p>"Pretty good, thanks," Marco says. "Messed up on the tube, but it was mostly fine.  I lost control of the gear for a moment..." </p><p>"It was a tight one for me too, don't worry." </p><p>Ymir gives a theatrical huff at this and raises her eyes to the heavens. "Always lying to him to make him feel better." </p><p>Pink dusts Bertholdt's cheeks. "Huh?" </p><p>"Go on and keep cooing over each other, don't let me stop you," she says snippily. "I'm going to do the next one." </p><p>There's something about Ymir's particular brand of impertinence that makes it hard for Marco to be offended by her, even when he’s being indirectly (or directly) insulted.  In fact, he has to suppress a smile as she shoots off again. </p><p>He gets an apologetic look from Bertholdt, who sets off too, but thankfully doesn't go swinging too far ahead of him. Marco springs off the side of a tree in an attempt to keep the same pace, until they've reached a steady rhythm. </p><p>Just as he's feeling more confident in himself to try longer and bolder strides in mid-air, his gear stops working.</p><p>It's almost comical. No wire shoots out when he presses his triggers, leaving him suspended in mid-air with his last burst of gas keeping him upright- and then he plummets. There isn’t even time for him to give a dramatic yell, only a frantic squeak.</p><p>"Nng!"</p><p>His body collides with the forest floor, and he’s immediately sure he’s broken something. A sharp jolt of pain shoots all the way through his body from his heel. Marco can't move for several moments as he lies sprawled out on the ground- he can only wince, and try and catch air through the lungs that have just been winded from the impact. </p><p>Up ahead, Bertholdt stops in his tracks and whips his head around towards him. Marco squints up at him helplessly, too winded to call out his name. If he wasn’t so stunned, he would be embarrassed out of his mind right about now.  </p><p>Bertholdt’s eyes go wide.</p><p>"Marco!" He swings back around, and flies through the trees to reach the groaning Marco. "Shit, are you alright?" </p><p>Marco tries to shift himself into a better position, but gives up on that very, very quickly. “Ha... I’ve been better…”</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit-” It strikes Marco that he’s never heard Bertholdt swear all that much before, but now he’s cursing with great volume and expression as he bends to check him over. “What happened?”</p><p>“My gear,” Marco mumbles. “It just went AWOL on me. The wires wouldn’t come out.”</p><p>Perhaps it explains what happened earlier, when his triggers didn’t fire instantly, and his sudden loss of control during the obstacle. Marco feels a pang of irritation at himself, why didn’t he think that there might be a problem?</p><p>“We’ll have to take it to get checked out,” Bertholdt says. He has one of Marco’s triggers in his hand and is testing it, pressing as hard as he can, but nothing happens. “Yeah, it’s fucked... it’s not responding at all.”</p><p>Groaning, Marco lets his head fall back to the ground. “And Shadis is all the way at the beginning of the forest. Oh, he’s going to kill me, he <em> told </em>us to double-check our gear to make sure nothing was wrong...”</p><p>“It was fine when you checked it, right? Maybe something went wrong along the way,” Bertholdt says. “I’ll- I’ll go with you to him.”</p><p>Marco knows this is a big thing for Bertholdt to offer. Though he’s quiet enough to always avoid trouble, it’s come to everyone’s attention by now that he’s absolutely terrified of the commanding officer- and he’s faced his fair share of teasing over it, particularly from Reiner, who can do a very good impression of Shadis’ voice and has snuck up on the giant to scare him more than once. Nobody else can live up to it- one of Connie's more embarrassing moments was him trying to do an impression while Bertholdt was in the shower, only for him to say, "<em>Connie, why are you calling me Cadet Hoover?</em>"</p><p>A twinge in his heel distracts him from this memory, and his grateful smile drops.  “There’s one problem.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“I banged up my foot,” Marco says. “It’ll take a <em>long</em> time for me to walk that far.”</p><p>“Oh, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think that you might be hurt!” Bertholdt says, slapping a hand over his eyes. "Is it bad?"</p><p>Marco thinks about downplaying it, but one twitch of his leg is enough to send spikes through his entire body. "Yeah... Yeah, it is."</p><p>“You’re- you’re not having a good day today, are you?”</p><p>With a solemn shake of the head, Marco says, “No, I’m not...”</p><p>“Okay... so... banged up foot, broken gear, Shadis at the front of the forest...” It’s almost endearing to see how anxious Bertholdt is, he’s sweating more than usual. “I guess we’ll have to-”</p><p>“Hey!”  </p><p>The familiar yell probably doesn’t herald good tidings, Marco thinks to himself. Ymir shoots through the trees before them, irritation painted more boldly onto her face, which is saying a lot.</p><p>“What the hell are you two idiots doing on the ground?” Ymir says. “I’ve been waiting at the next obstacle for ages.”</p><p>Bertholdt gestures to the fallen Marco, who flashes a pained smile. “Marco had a fall- his gear’s faulty, it stopped working on him. And he’s hurt his foot.”</p><p>True to Marco’s expectations, Ymir guffaws, hurling her head back to the sky. “Ha! Just your luck, eh, Freckles?”</p><p>“Just my luck,” Marco agrees. He doesn’t know why she uses ‘Freckles’ as a mocking nickname when she herself has freckles, but Ymir is inexplicable like that. “So... I’m kinda in a predicament, here. Sorry.”</p><p>“Well, then, what are you going to do?” Ymir says, still grinning. “Lie here and wait for moss to grow over you?”</p><p>Marco thinks that sounds like a good idea.</p><p>“Actually- I was hoping you could help, Ymir,” Bertholdt stammers- for some reason, he’s blushing again, though that might be a general side-effect of talking to Ymir. “I was thinking, that, um, I might- that I might carry Marco back to Shadis. You know, using my gear? Because he can’t walk... maybe you could help?”</p><p><em> Carry? </em> Now <em> Marco’s </em>blushing from head to toe, there’s no way any of this can get any more embarrassing… </p><p>“Aww, how <em> sweet </em>!” Ymir’s tone is the furthest thing from helpful. “Did you hear that, Freckles? Big Nose wants to carry you through the forest like a princess!”</p><p>Bertholdt’s hand jumps to his nose self-consciously, but he’s heard the nickname too many times before to be particularly wounded by it. “So are- are you going to help, or...?”</p><p>“Sorry, babes, but the only princess I’d carry is my Krista,” Ymir says, grinning ferally. “And at any given time of any given day, I have better things to do than to be with you two."</p><p>"... I see."</p><p>"Don't look like that. You’re big and strong enough to take him on your own." Ymir bends down to Marco’s eye level and pats him on the head. “Good luck!”</p><p>“Thanks so much for the support, Ymir,” Marco says- he’s not as practised in raw sarcasm as she is, but she seems to appreciate it, as she smirks and winks before springing off the ground again. They can hear her cackling from here.</p><p>“Great,” Bertholdt sighs. “That’s just perfect.”</p><p>“Look, thank you for your concern, Bertholdt, but you don’t have to carry me,” Marco mumbles. “I’m sure I can try walking.”</p><p>He makes an attempt at it, trying to get into a sitting position, but immediately yelps at the stab of pain in his foot and falls back down again.</p><p>There’s an almost motherly glint in Bertholdt’s eyes that stops him from trying again.  “Don’t overexert yourself. It’ll be fine, I’m not as strong as Reiner, but... I can take some weight. Not to say you’re heavy or anything...”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Marco laughs. “If Jean can lift me up, you’d definitely be able to. But using ODM gear too, and for that distance?”</p><p>“Don't worry,” Bertholdt assures him. “I think I can handle it...”</p><p>Marco doesn’t doubt that Bertholdt can, he certainly has the skill for it. But…</p><p>“Hey, don’t look so worried,” Bertholdt says. “You’re hurt. I can’t just leave you, can I?”</p><p>"... Okay," Marco says softly. "Thank you.”</p><p>The two of them share a smile- it’s one with eye contact, and lasts more than three seconds, which is a remarkable feat for Bertholdt. Unfortunately, the confidence he displays fizzles out spectacularly when he realises he has to follow through and pick Marco up.</p><p>“Um... okay.” Marco can feel the heat emanating from his skin. “Right. So, I’ll… I’ll just… um...”</p><p>He feebly reaches outwards, before his hands fall back to his sides again. Marco would feel sorry for him if he wasn’t equally as humiliated by the whole affair.</p><p>“I’ll help you sit upright,” Bertholdt says, inordinately loudly. It appears he’s overcompensating for his inaudble stammering by yelling. “Um… come here…”</p><p>Marco bites his lip as a pair of gentle and slightly shaky hands takes hold of each of his arms. The delicacy that Bertholdt handles him with makes him feel like he’s made of paper. </p><p>A wince flashes across his face as he’s lifted carefully to his feet, but it’s quickly replaced by a boiling hot blush when Bertholdt hoists Marco onto his back. He feels <em> ridiculous.  </em></p><p>“Is- is that okay?” Bertholdt asks. “Do you think you can hold on?”</p><p>"I think so… But are you <em> sure </em>you'll be okay?" </p><p>Bertholdt chuckles lightly in spite of his nervousness. “I’m not as lanky as I look.”</p><p>He’s right. As gangly as he appears, there’s definitely muscle there, which is a given considering how much physical training they’ve done. Despite the trepidation inside him, Marco feels like he can trust his comrade to get this done.</p><p>
  <em> Thank goodness Ymir left.  </em>
</p><p>“Okay..." Bertholdt flexes his wrists. "You ready?"</p><p>“M-Mhm,” Marco says. The trepidation is getting stronger, but he’s a soldier, he needs to be brave. What if there’s a situation like this on the battlefield one day? “You can go whenever you’re ready…”</p><p>“Alright… hang on, okay?” And with that, he launches them into the air.</p><p>Instantly, Marco regrets ever agreeing to this.</p><p>Using ODM gear is fun! It’s thrilling! But when not attached to a harness and wires, and clinging to somebody else’s back, there’s nothing more terrifying. Marco does his best to bite his tongue, but when Bertholdt lets go of one of his wires to fly forwards, he lets out a high pitched yell of terror.</p><p>“I’ve got you, it’s okay!” Bertholdt says, and he does. He doesn’t dip under Marco's weight, even though nails are digging <em>very </em>hard into his collarbones. “You won’t fall!”</p><p>“This- is-” Marco can’t get the words out, too afraid that any movement more excessive than blinking will send him flying to the ground again. “So scary! So, so scary!”</p><p>Bertholdt laughs and says something Marco doesn’t hear, because he’s too focused on trying not to break Bertholdt’s neck with his grip and not falling at the same time. The two of them bob up and down through the trees, advancing at an even pace- though it doesn't seem even to Marco, it feels like they're hurtling along at light speed, about to go tumbling to the ground at any moment.</p><p>They swing past another obstacle course, where other cadets stare at them in bewilderment.</p><p>“What the fuck?” That’s a very familiar voice- <em> Jean’s </em>voice. “Marco, is that you? Are you on Bertholdt’s back?”</p><p>“Marco hurt his foot!” Bertholdt calls, when Marco doesn’t say anything- he’s now hiding his face in Bertholdt’s back to try and avoid looking at the drop. “I’m taking him back to Shadis!”</p><p>“How are you doing that?” That’s Eren- nobody else yells like that. “What in the <em> hell?” </em></p><p>“Ha, are you jealous? I’m not surprised, you couldn’t carry a leaf on your back without collapsing, Yeager!” </p><p>“Shut your damn mouth! Don’t you care about your friend being injured?”</p><p>Jean pauses mid-cackle. “Shit! Marco- <em> you’ll be okay, right? </em>”</p><p>Bertholdt has already propelled them too far ahead for Marco to reply. He turns his head to the side. “You doing okay?"”</p><p>“Y- Y- Yes.” Marco gulps and allows himself a peek at his surroundings. It’s all rolling by quickly, and Bertholdt doesn’t even seem tired. “I'm- doing- great.” </p><p>“Don’t worry, we'll be there soon.” They zip past another obstacle course, and Marco catches a brief glimpse of Annie Leonhart’s piercing eyes before she’s left behind like the others. “Hey, um… Marco?”</p><p>“Yeah?” Marco says breathlessly. “Do you need a break? Are you getting tired?” </p><p>If Bertholdt's arms get tired and he lets up for a second, Marco's finished. He'll end up breaking both his legs, and that'll be his career as a soldier over, just like that.</p><p>“It’s not that… I just… um…” His blush is either from the effort of all his movement or from embarrassment. With Bertholdt, it’s usually the latter. “W- When we get to Shadis… you’re going to be the one to talk to him, right?”</p><p>Marco is so disbelieving that he stops being scared for a moment. It’s difficult to get this straight in his mind- Bertholdt is totally fine with carrying an injured person on his back using ODM gear at top speed through a forest, but talking to Shadis is where the terror sets in?</p><p>The thought makes him giggle, in spite of his pulsating fear. “D- Don’t worry about it, Bertholdt. I’ll tell him everything.”</p><p>“Okay… that’s good.” The relief in Bertholdt’s voice is palpable. “Sorry, that was rude of me, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Marco says, and he has to hide his face again to restrain his laughter. Maybe the adrenaline is making him go mad.  “I get you completely.”</p><p>"Um, you okay over there?" Bertholdt inquires, as Marco's shoulders heave. </p><p>Marco nods, deciding not to speak, as he thinks he'll break into a coughing fit.</p><p>They’ve been soaring through the trees for long enough that Marco doesn’t think he’s going to fall again, but he still clutches on far too tightly whenever there's a sudden dip in their trajectory. He wonders Bertholdt has been able to carry him this far without faltering. Has he got superhuman strength?</p><p>A burst of light catches Marco's eye, and relief floods him when he realises they’re reaching the beginning of the forest. He’s never been more happy to see the hulking figure of Keith Shadis, or those blood-chilling eyes.</p><p>They’re locked on Bertholdt and Marco in pure disbelief as they approach. Bertholdt’s composure finally seems to waver in the face of the commander, and he lands on the ground with very little elegance. </p><p>“Sorry!” he says to Marco, who winces heavily at the impact. “That didn’t hurt, did it?”</p><p>“No, I’m fine…” Marco says. He slides off of Bertholdt’s back slowly, placing his good foot on the ground- how he’s missed solid ground! "That... I don't want to do that again... ever. Thank you for not dropping me, but- never again."</p><p>Bertholdt smiles, and his arm slips around Marco's shoulder to support him as they hobble towards Shadis, who narrows his eyes.</p><p>“Sir!” Marco says weakly, doing a salute that likely won’t earn him any good will. </p><p>“Bodt. Hoover,” Shadis growls. Marco feels Bertholdt flinch. “Explain yourselves.”</p><p>“Well, um… so, it’s like this, sir!” Marco tries for a mixture between politeness and joviality, but in the face of the commander he decides grovelling is probably his best option. “So, um… I’m really sorry about this, but… In the middle of one of the obstacle courses, my gear stopped operating, and I fell and injured my foot. I couldn’t walk, so Bertholdt carried me here.”</p><p>Shadis tilts his head. “Your gear stopped operating? Do you remember what I said at the beginning of the session?”</p><p>“It was working when I checked, sir!” Marco says. “I’m not sure what happened later on…”</p><p>“Well, you must have missed something,” Shadis snaps. “And now you’re injured. Fantastic job, cadet! Not an ounce of carelessness to be seen here!”</p><p>There’s no room for a response here, which doesn't seem entirely fair, but this is Shadis- fairness is not the  norm. Marco has been rarely in this position, but now he is he feels a pang of sympathy for Sasha and Connie, who have faced this more times than anyone can count.</p><p>“And you, Hoover-” Marco squeezes Bertholdt’s elbow in solidarity as he stiffens. “You carried him all the way over here? With ODM gear?”</p><p>Bertholdt jerks his head. “Y- Yes, I did, sir…”</p><p>Though Shadis is glowering, Marco notices that the firm line of his mouth relaxes. </p><p>“Get out of your gear, Bodt,” he rumbles, looking away from Bertholdt. “It’ll be checked over, and if it’s discovered that the flaw was easy to spot, you’ll be coming to my office for a little chat about the importance of listening to instructions. Hoover, take him to the medical tent, and then get back to training!”</p><p>The two of them chorus, “Yes, sir!”</p><p>“And the third member of your group was Ymir, am I right?”</p><p>They nod in unison.</p><p>“That explains why there’s only two of you here,” Shadis mutters. “Her and Leonhart, classic team players. Well, Bodt, what are you waiting for? Gear off!” </p><p>With Bertholdt’s help, Marco removes his harness and handgrips. When he hands it over to Shadis, the commander shakes his gear at him with a most threatening look before waving a hand to dismiss them.</p><p>Supported by Bertholdt's arm again, they turn towards the medical tent, which thankfully isn’t as far as the distance it took to traverse the forest.</p><p>“That wasn’t so bad,” Bertholdt says, guiding Marco forwards. “I thought he’d lay into you. I guess you aren’t a regular offender, though…”</p><p>“I just hope he doesn’t find any big flaw with my gear,” Marco groans. “The day has been long enough.”</p><p>Bertholdt hums. “Maybe he’ll wait till you’ve recovered from your injury before he eviscerates you.”</p><p>“Hopefully.” There has to be a heart somewhere in that man. </p><p>They limp along in companionable silence.</p><p>Marco grimaces at the speed it’s taking them to walk towards the tent. He almost wants to use the ODM gear, they’re moving so slowly. Guilt floods through him when he thinks of how much of Bertholdt’s time he’s wasted because of his carelessness.</p><p>“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Bertholdt asks, at Marco’s little sigh. </p><p>“No. I’m okay, don’t worry. Just... Sorry about this,” Marco says. “I feel really bad. That’s a lot of your training time wasted because of me…”</p><p>“It's nothing, it won’t kill me,” Bertholdt mumbles. “You should be more worried about yourself.”</p><p>That’s true- Marco doesn’t know how long he’ll be out of commission with his foot, he’ll probably have to train much more intensely when he returns to the field. His shoulders slump.</p><p>Sullenness isn't the adequate response to someone who's carried you across a forest to stop you having to walk with a damaged heel, though, so Marco hitches a wide grin onto his face. “Thank you so much for all your help, anyway. You’re a real lifesaver. Nobody else would go out of their way like that.”</p><p>He gets a quick shrug and eyes hurriedly flitting away from him in response. "Anyone would."</p><p>"Ymir didn't," Marco points out.</p><p>"But- but that's Ymir," Bertholdt says, peering determinedly into the distance despite there being nothing interesting out there. "The only person she'd do anything for is Krista."</p><p>"You got me there," Marco concedes.  "Has anyone found out anything about that? Do we have any idea <em>why </em>Krista is the only person in the world she cares about?"</p><p>Bertholdt shrugs. "Not a clue... I don't think I'll ever understand her."</p><p>Finally, they reach the medical tent. Marco can't wait to be laid out on a table with his foot elevated- he's sweating from the strain of all the movement he's done since his fall.</p><p>"Here we are," Bertholdt says. "I'll, um... leave you here, then. Get better soon, Marco."</p><p>"Thank you again, Bertholdt." Marco places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a warm, firm squeeze. "So much."</p><p>Pink floods Bertholdt's face, which seems odd, especially after he still has red marks around his neck from where Marco clutched onto him earlier. But physical contact can be complex. It’s the same with Jean- he can get into wrestling matches with Eren with no inhibitions whatsoever, but if Marco leans against him, he always looks embarrassed.</p><p>Now Marco thinks about it, he’s only really seen Bertholdt be physically close with Reiner, who’s constantly pulling him in for bear hugs and ruffling his hair and elbowing him. Everyone else… Bertholdt keeps his distance with everyone else. He’s always been shy like that.  Marco hopes that one day he'll be able to get close enough to Bertholdt to hug him like Reiner, that all the cadets will be as close as brothers. How nice would that be? </p><p>With a final goodbye and a tentative wave, Bertholdt turns his back to him. Marco watches him return to the edge of the forest and raise his arms towards the trees. When he launches into the air and out of sight, Marco pushes through the flap of the medical tent, ready to get some much-needed rest, and smiling- the future will never be too hard with comrades like these. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ok that last line was just there to be mean it's way too on the nose but WHO cares. and i don't know why shadis has featured in so many of these chaps. idk i find the idea of him funny</p><p>i feel like this chap is evil, but cmon, the PARALLELS of it all, the dramatic irony of it all...</p><p>hope this was okay?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Historia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alrighty- in this one there's a mild hint at backstory for bertl. it's not gone into detail and it's not wildly out of character and self-indulgent (shockingly for me), but i do hint at what his past was like. seeing as a certain manga writer never thought it necessary to tell us anything about bertl's non-reiner related past (coughimnotmadcough)  other than the fact he had a sick father i think it's alright lol</p><p>i also am not sure about when reiner's split personality came about? i think he split when marco died, but in this fic i'm bending things slightly and saying it developed during training because of the stress of the lie  like ymir said. ugh i don't know</p><p>as i've said before, historia is a rough one for me- i've never felt much for her character at all. so this is likely to be a complete disaster, it was difficult. i'm the type of weirdo perfectionist who gets really anxious over fanfic lmao. but i tried!! and this one is a LOT less light-hearted than the others, a definite change in tone from snowball fights and bros carrying each other through a forest haha</p><p>also i wasn't quiiiite sure what to call historia, but i decided to give her her real name and the others call her krista, i'm not sure what the dynamics are of living with another identity i guess??? </p><p>sorry for this long ass note lmao. anyway enjoy, and can't thank those who have commented enough!!!!!!!!!!!! it means so much to me :)</p><p>WHY DO I POST THESE SO LATE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time has gone by so quickly. Historia remembers first joining the cadets, standing with her hands behind her back while Shadis called them all maggots and Titan food, and now here she is, at the end of her second year, with her comrades all in raptures around her. They've all passed their exams without a hitch, ensuring entry for their final year of training. The battle is marching ever closer, it won’t be too long till she’ll be embroiled in blood and sweat and tears, but it doesn’t seem that way from the way everyone is acting.</p><p>“Seventy seven percent! I got seventy seven percent!” Sasha crows to the table at large as they eat their dinner- as a reward for their success in their exams, there’s a slightly larger selection of food than usual, and no time limit for how long they have to stay in the mess hall. “And I would’ve got higher if it wasn’t for the stupid written test! I got ninety one percent in my physical test!”</p><p>She stuffs a bread roll into her mouth whole, making the rest of her words incomprehensible. Historia gives her a gentle smile.</p><p>“I knew you could do it!” she says. “I’m so proud of you, Sasha, you’ve worked really hard to get where you are. Well done!”</p><p>Ymir raises her eyes to the heavens. “Be a little more patronising, why don’t you? Ruffle her hair for good measure.”</p><p>“How am I being patronising?” Historia protests. “I’m just congratulating her like a normal person! I wasn’t being patronising, was I, Sasha?”</p><p>Giving a gigantic swallow, Sasha beams at her. “No, you were being nice! Thank you so much, Krista!”</p><p>Being around Ymir seems to bring a childishness out of Historia that wasn’t present when she was actually a child- she sticks her tongue out at the irritating woman, who merely smirks in response, always pleased at riling Historia up.</p><p>Around the table, the others are in full-flow conversation. Everyone seems to be in a raucous mood after their achievements, finally allowed to breathe for a while now they know they’re secure for next year. Even the most problematic and lazy of students put their head down in the weeks leading up to the exams, and now their work has all paid off.</p><p>Historia’s eyes drift up when she hears a commotion a few seats away from her. Ah, of course- Armin is holding Eren back from attacking Jean for bragging about his better test results, but to little avail. The high-energy mood only fuels those two’s silly fights. It takes Reiner’s intervention to separate them, as Mikasa is further away next to Sasha.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, he drops the two of them back into their chairs. “Stop getting all worked up, you guys, you both passed.”</p><p>For some reason, Reiner has quite a bit of influence on the others- he’s the second most authoritative of them all, behind Mikasa, who everyone is too terrified of to cross. Maybe Annie would be above him if she cared enough. Eren and Jean shoot each other livid looks, but settle down with their arms crossed.</p><p>“We should all be sunshine and smiles right now, not at each other’s throats,” Reiner tries to appease them. “Be like Annie, never without a big goofy grin!”</p><p>They all snigger when Reiner gestures down the table at Annie’s completely empty expression. </p><p>“Okay, I’m kidding, don’t look at me like that,” Reiner says hastily, when her eyes zero in on him. “But seriously, c’mon, guys, we’re one step closer to becoming proper soldiers!”</p><p>“Reiner’s right,” Armin says. “It doesn’t matter who scored higher than who, what matters is that we’re on track to get out there and fight. Okay, Eren?”</p><p>Ymir makes retching noises from beside Historia. “You two sound just like each other.  Corny as all hell.”</p><p>Historia ignores the jibe, instead leaning forwards to take a sip of water in what she hopes is dignified silence. Now Eren is complaining about Armin lecturing him and not Jean, who made a big deal about the test scores in the first place, but he stops when Reiner sits forwards thoughtfully. </p><p>“We're getting closer and closer to returning home,” he says. He turns his head to the side, to where Bertholdt is sitting beside him. “Right, Bertl?" </p><p>Historia realises she hasn’t heard a single word from Bertholdt for all the time they’ve been here. He's picking at his barely touched food with his fork, and earning doleful looks from Sasha, who clearly wants to finish it off for him. At Reiner's words he finally glances up from his plate, but only briefly. "Yeah..."</p><p>“We have to retake Wall Maria,” Reiner says, dropping his cutlery and clasping his hands together. “It won’t be an easy job, but when we’re fully trained, we can fight for it with our lives. And we <em>will </em>get back home one day."</p><p>If there’s one thing Historia has noticed about Reiner, it’s that he’s always filled with great earnesty. He looks longingly into the distance, as though he can see his hometown right there, but there’s also determination in his gaze. It’s completely different from Bertholdt, who merely looks tired. Perhaps he isn’t as confident that they’ll return home one day… </p><p>“And we’ll get Shiganshina back, too,” Eren says. Reiner’s words seem to have had a steadying effect on him. “We’ll send those Titans straight to hell and get back what they took from us.”</p><p>Reiner grins. “Damn straight. I can’t wait.”</p><p>“What if there’s nothing left?” Ymir asks casually. Horrified, Historia goes to shove a hand over her mouth, but she lithely dodges it. “What? I’m just saying, if his hometown is in Maria, it’s probably all razed by the Titans. What are you hoping to find?”</p><p>Mortification floods through Historia- is she <em> really </em> saying this? “ <em> Ymir! </em>How can you say that? I’m so sorry, Reiner!”</p><p>Everyone else pointedly looks away, apart from Bertholdt, who raises his head again and looks towards Reiner. But he doesn’t look upset, he doesn’t look anything at all. In the same vein, Reiner looks contemplative, not angry. </p><p>“Don’t worry, Krista, I know what Ymir’s trying to say,” Reiner says. “Even if there is nothing left, we can’t stop trying to get back. We have to try and see if there’s anything left to reclaim. After what those bastards did that day, we can’t- we can’t let all those lives go to waste.” </p><p>Bertholdt pushes his chair back. </p><p>“Excuse me,” he murmurs. In the wake of Reiner’s words, nobody pays particular attention when he stands up and makes to leave, especially when he’s been so quiet this whole time.  Historia, however, keeps her eyes on him until he leaves the mess hall.</p><p>“He probably knows the truth,” Ymir snorts, and Historia realises she was watching him too. “Reiner’s an idealistic fool, but I guess Bertl has his head screwed on right-”</p><p>Historia stomps on her foot before she can try and further rip apart Reiner’s ideals, pointedly ignoring the furious look this gets her. Reiner doesn’t hear her, though- he’s too busy talking to Eren and Armin, who were enraptured by his earlier words, while Jean looks uncomfortable in the background. He’s not planning to fight for anything like that anytime soon. </p><p>They return to their food. The conversation turns away from the topic of lost lives and noble missions and becomes more upbeat, with Connie standing up to recite an answer he had actually remembered from the written test, to raucous cheers from all.</p><p>"Congratulations!" Jean tells him. "Maybe next time you'll remember something more than two sentences long."</p><p>"Maybe next time I'll smash your teeth in, horse-faced bastard!"</p><p>It's funny to watch, and Historia is glad to see her companions so energetic... but she can’t stop thinking about Bertholdt. Ten minutes or so have passed since he left, and he hasn't returned. Maybe he isn't coming back at all. Though he looked neutral, he must be so sad by the talk of their hometown, and Ymir’s words can’t have helped.  </p><p>She stands up.</p><p>“Hey, Krista, where do you think you’re going?” Ymir says, and at the same time Sasha says, “Krista, can I finish your food? And, oh! Can I finish Bertholdt’s? Does anyone know if he’s going to come back?” </p><p>Historia waves a dismissive hand to both questions. She hears Ymir give a knowing scoff behind her, but she doesn’t pay any attention, instead making her way out of the mess hall and stepping out into the cool summer night. </p><p>Her eyes scan the surroundings. There’s barely anybody in sight, apart from Franz and Hannah leaning against the side of the girl’s barracks, giggling with each other. Slightly flustered, Historia hurries further forwards to get away from them and see if she can find where Bertholdt is.</p><p>She barely ever talks to him, but she can't ignore someone when they look as hollow as she does, when she stares into the mirror as Historia and not Krista. Ymir would call it her 'insufferable good-girl instinct', while Historia would call it basic human empathy.</p><p>Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long to find him. He’s sitting by the back of the boy’s barracks, hunched over on the grass. The darkness would shroud anyone else in his position, but he’s just so tall that there’s nowhere he could really be inconspicuous. </p><p>Although she’s gone out of her way to seek him out, the moment she lays her eyes on him, Historia starts to feel hesitant about talking to him at all. Is she being intrusive? Will he even respond to her? But concern stops her from turning back around. People as quiet as Bertholdt never reach out if they need it, and if even Reiner didn’t notice how he looked… she can at least give him the chance to talk, if he needs it.</p><p>Bertholdt doesn’t notice her approach. His fingers twist and pull at blades of grass, methodically yanking them from the ground and dropping them again. There’s that similar deadened look in his eyes from before- no obvious hint of distress, only weariness. </p><p>It’s only when Historia is a foot away from him that he realises she’s there. The vacant expression turns to one of surprise and he falls back against the wall to look at her. </p><p>“Krista?” he says. “What- what are you doing here?”</p><p>“Hi… Sorry for, um, sneaking up on you.” She picks at her palm anxiously. “I just… I noticed you getting up and leaving at dinner. I wanted to- I wanted to make sure you were okay?”</p><p>“Oh… I see.” Bertholdt’s hand curls around more grass, he drops his head again. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m okay. I just needed some air.”</p><p>Crickets chirp for far too long as Historia tries to think of what to say. There’s something almost nerve-wracking about being here with him. She’s got a pretty good grasp on what makes the other cadets tick- for example, Sasha is probably her easiest client, only needing an extra bread roll or potato to brighten up her day, and as infuriating as Ymir is, she usually acquiesces after a firm scolding. But Historia honestly doesn’t know Bertholdt at all. She’s much better acquainted with Reiner, who always likes to start conversations with her. What should she do here?</p><p><em> Are you really planning on going to the grave trying to help everyone? </em> Ymir asked her once. <em> What do you even gain from it? Just leave people alone and let them handle themselves. </em></p><p>Thinking of Ymir doesn’t deter her, however- it only reminds her of earlier.  “Bertholdt, I’m so sorry about what Ymir said before. About your hometown.”</p><p>Bertholdt looks up at her- she has her hands clasped together, almost like she’s begging for forgiveness. “Don’t worry about it, Krista. Really.”</p><p>“No, it was wrong of her, and I’ll get her to apologise to you,” Historia says firmly. He shakes his head, but doesn’t seem to have the energy to convince her otherwise. “For- for what it’s worth, I really hope you and Reiner can get back there one day.”</p><p>He nods at the grass. “Thanks.”</p><p>Silence. It's agonising. </p><p>“I- I know we don’t talk a lot…” Her attempt at motherly concern feels so <em> insipid, </em> but she wants to at least try and get him to open up, however fruitless it may seem. “But, um, if you have… anything you’d want to talk about…?”</p><p>The longer his silence goes on, the more she’s sure her efforts have failed. Maybe Ymir was right, maybe she should back away and leave him be-</p><p>All of a sudden, Bertholdt shifts, drawing his knees towards his chest. A hand reaches up to grip the bridge of his nose like he has a headache.</p><p>Historia waits anxiously, hoping <em> she </em> isn’t the headache in this equation. Or what if he’s <em> crying? </em>Maybe that’s a good thing- crying people are easier to deal with than stony people, their emotions are much more comprehensible. It’s a horrible thing to think, but Historia knows a good cry can be cleansing. </p><p>When Bertholdt draws his hand away from his face, she sees that he isn’t crying. He looks just as tired as before- the only betrayal of any sign of agitation is the muscle jumping in his jaw. </p><p>"It’s nothing big,” he says. He inhales, long and hard. “It’s just... when Reiner was talking… It made me feel a little..."</p><p>He can't seem to find the words, so she offers one for him- "Homesick?"</p><p>"... I guess."</p><p>"I’m sorry about that,” Historia says. “Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p>"No... I'm fine," he murmurs. He tries for a smile, but it's exactly the same as the one she's painted on all too often- far too fragile, and far too easy to read. "I- I appreciate your concern, but you really don't need to worry about me. You can go back to the others."</p><p>If she was in his position, she'd be aggravated at herself for not budging from the spot. For making it harder to keep up the mask. She'd think of herself as being pushy, not knowing when to quit. "It might help to talk. It works for me."</p><p>A blatant lie, Historia doesn't talk to anyone about anything. But she's telling him what he needs to hear.</p><p>Bertholdt looks at her, and then away again. More grass leaves the ground. Historia watches his hands- it takes an eye that's looking for it to see that they're slightly shaky, another betrayal to the image he's trying to portray. His anxiety is only just being contained.</p><p>All of this is eerily familiar to her. </p><p>After more silence, Historia feels like she has permission to sit down- he hasn't told her to leave yet. Her eyes flit back and forth towards him nervously as she lowers herself to the ground beside him. He doesn’t react.</p><p>It shouldn't be so difficult to think of what to say. She's perfected being Krista, sweet and gentle Krista who can lull even the most bull-headed of cadets into a state of calm. But now she feels far too much like Historia. </p><p>She ducks her head and folds her hands in her lap. <em>Channel Krista. Reassure him, open him up, do anything, you stupid girl.</em></p><p>Finally, <em>finally, </em>he speaks. The mumble attracts Historia's attention at once and she jerks her head up to look at him- but she can't hear his words.</p><p>"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," she says softly. </p><p>"I- I said... I said it's nothing big or devastating," Bertholdt says. Now his voice is giving him away, it's fraught. “I just miss home. That's it.” </p><p>Missing home. Historia can’t say she’s ever understood the feeling for herself, but she knows from the other cadets how devastating it can feel. “It’s not anything small, especially after what happened to Wall Maria…”</p><p>“Y- Yeah...” Bertholdt locks his fingers together.. “It’s... it's not so much that I want to go home… "</p><p>The length of the pauses between his words is almost painful, but Historia waits patiently. She can imagine how difficult this is for him. </p><p>"Because... because like Ymir said, it’ll never be the same, after all that’s happened. It’s more that I want to… I want to go <em> back</em>. To before.”</p><p>Historia can’t say she understands that either. “Back? I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean.”</p><p>“It probably doesn't make much sense, but,” Bertholdt mumbles. “But... I want to be a kid again. I had about five thoughts in my head per day back then, all of them stupid. it was much more manageable.”</p><p>“You do make sense," Historia says, smiling faintly. "Children have it easy...”</p><p>
  <em> When I was a child, I thought a hug could make my mother stop hating me. Things really seemed that simple, back then. I read books and thought the words in there held the solution for everything.</em>
</p><p>"I'm sorry, I don't know where you're from," Bertholdt says. "Rose...?"</p><p>Ah. Historia knows she's a raging hypocrite for wanting him to steer the conversation well away from her, but she feels a little set upon nonetheless. "Uhm- yeah, yeah, I am. From Rose. Born and raised, so I didn't go through anything like you did."</p><p>He doesn't notice the flush that rises in her cheeks.</p><p>"Was your childhood good?" she hurries to turn the conversation back onto him, before he can do something horrifying like ask her questions about herself. "Back in Maria?"</p><p>“Well... it wasn't amazing,” Bertholdt admits, twisting his fingers back. “My father was sick. Mother was strict. And a lot if it is… clouded over, in my head, I don’t remember all too much. But... it was quiet."</p><p>He speaks in such <em>halting</em> sentences, filled with tormented pauses that makes Historia feel as though each word has been given up only under sufferance. But when he starts talking again, his voice is softer.</p><p>"One of the things I remember..." He pauses for a moment, looking at her with his brow creased, and she gives him a little encouraging nod. "It's stupid, but one of the things I remember was when I would get my father's medicine from the cupboards, because he got so tired all the time, and couldn’t move from his chair. He’d say...<em> Berto... Berto, boyo… help your old man out, will you, and get me my medicine for me? Thank you, son."</em></p><p>The husky voice he puts on elicits a surprised giggle from Historia.</p><p>"I'd get up from where I was playing on the floor as fast as I could, and run to get his medicine and water for him." Historia can almost see the diligent little boy in the back of her mind, pattering across the floorboards at top speed.  "When he took it from me, he would smile and put a hand on my head, and say, <em> that’s my good boy. </em>Even though he said the same thing every time, I always loved hearing it. Once he took the medicine, I’d take the glass back from him and put it away, and when I came back, he would be sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed. Then I’d sit on the floor by his legs, and look out of the window, as if I was… ha, as if I was guarding him in his sleep."</p><p>His voice seems to grow more confident with every word, but at the same time his expression gets more and more distant.</p><p>"Eventually my mother would get home, and I'd get up to stay out of her way," he says, and just like that, his confidence falls away, and he retreats into himself again. "But... I was always happy to sit there with my father, in silence. Come rain or shine, we always did that. It- it was so nice."</p><p>Historia doesn't want him to stop talking. Bertholdt seems startled by how much he’s said, however, and rubs the back of his neck. "I know- I know it doesn't sound like anything special. I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense."</p><p>"No," Historia says. Sitting quietly with someone who loves you... who pats you on the head and smiles at you... It sounds blissful. "That's so, so lovely, Bertholdt." </p><p>Bertholdt exhales. "That silence... There was nothing in my head back then. No Titans, no fighting, no duty, nothing. Just me, my dad and whatever the weather was outside that window. So, yeah… I miss it... I- I really miss it-”</p><p>His breath hitches, and he drops his face in his knees. Historia’s eyes widen and she leans forwards. “Bertholdt?” </p><p>“S- Sorry,” she hears him gasp eventually, though it takes considerable effort to hear. “Being- so- stupid- don't- deserve- so stupid-”</p><p>“You’re not,” Historia cuts in. “You wouldn’t say that to someone else who’s suffered like you have, so don’t say it to yourself.”</p><p>Bertholdt doesn’t show his face. His knuckles turn white as he digs his nails into his leg. </p><p>"I'm so sorry," he lets out, voice muffled and cracked. "I'm sorry- I'm so-"</p><p>"Don't," Historia murmurs. "You don't need to be sorry. You're not the first person to cry. Do you know how many people have come to me in tears before? It's normal."</p><p>Frantic gasps answer her. All that pent-up emotion of his still isn't being let out, she knows it'll only suffocate him if he keeps trying to force it down. </p><p>"Please breathe, Bertholdt. You'll only make it worse for yourself if you hold it back, okay? Try and get into a rhythm- like this-" </p><p>Historia demonstrates what she means almost desperately. The forced restraint of his grief is unnatural and alarming, unsettling Historia to the point of causing her arms to break out in gooseflesh. She's much more used to indulgent wailing or open, emotional sobbing. </p><p>Relief floods through her when he begins following her rhythm of breathing. It's painful to hear the wrenching gasps, but gradually, he quiets.</p><p>"That's good, Bertholdt," Historia soothes. "There you go."</p><p>No answer. If he wasn't responding before, she sure as hell doesn't expect him to talk much now. </p><p>"It's okay. It's happened to me too, it's happened to a lot of people," she says, because she doesn't want him to focus on any kind of self-consciousness or embarrassment. "When all these emotions build up and have nowhere else to go, they just explode out of you. It happens."</p><p>Still nothing, but Historia is willing to wait.</p><p>Bertholdt is so bunched up that he must be aching all over. Tufts of hair stick up from where his fingers clutch at his hair. It seems so strange that Historia was among people jumping for joy and behaving like rowdy teenagers earlier, but now... </p><p>She lets out a breath when Bertholdt's body loosens. Ever so slowly, his face raises from his knees.</p><p>His eyes are bloodshot, but he doesn't look as blotchy and disgusting as she does when she cries. Has... has he even <em>been</em> crying?  He looks drawn, exhausted, but there's no tear tracks...</p><p>It's almost frightening to see how restrained he is.</p><p>"Feeling a little better?" Historia murmurs, when he looks up at her.</p><p>Bertholdt doesn't respond. His legs lower to the ground, and he leans forwards, pressing a hand against his forehead, closing his eyes tightly. Every movement of his is lethargic, but it's better than his violent shuddering from before.</p><p>"Krista..." His voice is so hoarse. "I'm sorry for this."</p><p>"I've told you," Historia says softly. "You don't need to apologise. It happens to the best of us."</p><p>The hand slips down, pressing tightly against his eyes. "Thank you."</p><p>"That's okay."</p><p>"... It's all a bit too much, sometimes."</p><p>"I know," Historia whispers. "I know."</p><p>A moth drifts towards one of the lanterns. Historia watches its progress, sees it flicker around the light madly.  </p><p>"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she says. "I'm so sorry about your hometown and what you've lost, and all the stress you're feeling. But one day, maybe you'll be able to find a new kind of peace. That's what we're all fighting for, right?"</p><p>If there's one comforting thing about fighting the Titans, it's that there's only a few ways things can end. Either they die heroically, find peace and have their memory live on with the people they saved. Or they die brutally and like cowards, but still get silence and the chance to rest. Or they win.</p><p>A burst of noise rings out before he can say anything in response to that. It comes from the mess hall, signalling that the rest of the group have finished eating and have come outside. Bertholdt goes rigid.</p><p>"I'm not going to bed, hell no!" That's Reiner's voice, clear as day. "Get the hell away from those barracks, Arlert, I don't care how tired you are. We're goin' down to the lake!"</p><p>"But-!"</p><p>Another distinctive voice speaks up- Eren. "No buts! Come on, how many nights a year do we get to stay up like this?"</p><p>"Well, I suppose you're right, but..."</p><p><em>"No</em> buts!"</p><p>"Okay, okay, I'll go!"</p><p>"That's the spirit!"</p><p>"I should go and find Krista, but she's probably gone to sleep like the sad nerd she is." That's <em>Ymir. </em>"I'll go grovel to her tomorrow. Though I shouldn't have to."</p><p>"You were kind of an ass, Ymir..." Sasha.</p><p>"She's just too sensitive. Reiner didn't even give a shit. And Bertholdt didn't look sad or anything."</p><p>"Yeah, but he-"</p><p>"But nothing, I don't wanna hear a lecture from you, potato girl. Leonhart, you comin' along too?"</p><p>"Yeah, Annie, you should come!"</p><p>"... Fine. Not for long."</p><p>"Connie, Jean, hurry the fuck up!" Reiner again. "I wanna go dive-bomb the shit out of that lake!"</p><p>"It's the middle of the night, Reiner!"</p><p>"Who gives a shit?" Reiner sounds like he doesn't have a care in the world. "We've passed our exams, we're in our final year now, we're on top of the world! Let's hit that lake!"</p><p>"Hell, yeah!"</p><p>Laughter bubbles up and dances through the air. The rowdy yelling lasts for several more seconds before trailing off, as the group disappear towards the lake.</p><p>Historia breathes out. They're gone. Thank goodness. She turns towards Bertholdt, hoping that he'll be reassured that nobody has to see him like this. </p><p>The corners of his lips tremble. This time, his eyes are overly bright, wide like he's doing his level best not to blink and let the water spill over.</p><p>But a droplet rolls down the crease of his nose. More follow. All that time he's spent keeping it in, and now that effort is wasted, because more and more tears spill by the second. Historia can only watch as he caves into himself, hands covering his face again. </p><p>Historia sidles closer to Bertholdt, her soft sigh being drowned out by the choked noises he's making. Her arms reach out and wrap around him, and he doesn't move away. </p><p>As heartbreaking as it is, she's glad when she hears him start weeping.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>7 chapters done, only 3 till the end! thank god this one is out of the way, it was easily the most stressful one so far.  i have never finished a multi chap fic before, this will hopefully be my first ever lmfao, that's just the power of birmingsnort hoothoot</p><p>how did this one end up being so l ong?!?!?!?!?!? why on earth did i not do a short fluff piece for this. i hope it didn't feel like bertl was giving away too much??? like he barely said anything to give himself away to historia, and she assumes he's crying over regular old grief n sadness, so .... AAAA</p><p>thank you all for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ymir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>not so fun fact about this chapter- like the batshit insane person i am, i wrote an entire, fully finished chapter for ymir, but decided i didn't like it and started over again with a whole new concept. maybe i'll post it as a separate one shot. and i also came down with something so writing was tough. so that's why there's been a pretty hefty delay, sorry for that, but i'm here now! hope yall are doing well :)</p><p>this is way more light-hearted than the last, and i like it much better than the historia chap, mostly because ymir is fun to write dialogue for lol</p><p>thank you for over 100 kudos! i'm so glad people seem to enjoy this fic :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ymir isn't the best at playing nice with others. So when Shadis announced that he was selecting their groups for their afternoon survival skills training course, and decided that she should be with Connie, a raging moron, Annie, an emotionless husk, and Bertholdt, a stammering wreck, she thought she was done for. She was certain this day was going to end with a fatality somewhere along the line.</p><p>Surprisingly, she's proven wrong. As hot-headed and easily riled up as Connie is, he at least makes for an entertaining companion. Several times he goes directly for poisonous mushrooms that Bertholdt has to pull him back from, and scares off the fish in the rivers with his desperate yelling and swearing as he tries and fails to catch them with his sword. And while Annie isn't exactly a sparkling conversationalist, she shares some of Ymir's insights into how pointless this all is- none of them will survive long enough outside to need to forage when there are Titans around. Not to mention how fun it is to tease Bertholdt, whose ears go bright red at even the slightest provocation. </p><p>They return to the rest of the group just as the sun begins to set, to show off what they've gathered. Fortunately, Annie took over the fishing from Connie, spearing three for them in less than two minutes, and Bertholdt paid attention to what plants were actually edible, so their selection of food isn't as paltry as the other teams. Ymir guffaws at Reiner's group's single fish and three dandelions, which earns them quite the verbal lashing from Shadis. </p><p>"Right, now you'll be going off and finding a spot to camp," Shadis orders them all, once he's finished criticising the majority of the cadets for their pathetic foraging skills, apart from Ymir's group, and Sasha's team, who have accumulated a feast. "You're not all gathering together, because I know you'll end up mingling with each other and causing trouble. Find your own spot along the river! You have to build a fire and find potable water, understood?"</p><p>It's by far one of the easiest assignments they've been given. In the recent heatwave, training has been sticky and miserable and even more physically challenging than usual- just this morning they were forced to run for three hours and spar for another two beneath the sun- so the opportunity to do something as basic as setting up camp is most welcome to to the cadets. It hardly requires any effort at all. </p><p>"I'll go get the tinder," Ymir announces. She's lived as a thief in these Walls for years, and as a street urchin in Marley to boot, she could make a raging fire from a scrap of cloth. "Hoover, you sort out the water. Leonhart, you get the food ready. Springer, you sit on your hands and stay away from any flames."</p><p>"Hey! I can help, you know!" </p><p>Everything's a breeze. They have their weapons set up in an easily accessible place, their fire is hearty, they have something to eat. Judging by the yells of frustration in the distance, not everyone is as lucky.</p><p>"Sasha, no, you can't throw your equipment onto the fire! We need wood!"</p><p>"Where do we even <em>find</em> wood? I've looked everywhere! Come on, I wanna eat!"</p><p>Ymir smirks to herself, she'll be sleeping better than the others tonight. Shadis gives their group's set-up a once-over, but he doesn't seem to have any problems with it and moves along quickly to shout at the others. They're free for the rest of the night, so they unfurl their bedrolls and settle down. </p><p>"Thank fuck," Connie groans. He stretches out on the grass, placing his hands behind his head with a contented yawn. The flickering of the campfire, the rushing of the river and the distant swearing of their fellow cadets provides quite the relaxing ambience. "That's the first time I've breathed easy with that man around."</p><p>"You're lucky you've got competent people in your group," Ymir says.  "Otherwise you <em>wouldn't </em>be breathing easy, with all those mushrooms you picked up. Good thing Big Nose was there to set you straight."</p><p>After his display today, Connie doesn't really have a leg to stand on, so he mumbles sheepishly, "Thanks, Bertl."</p><p>"That's okay," Bertholdt murmurs. He's stopped being offended by Ymir's nicknames by now.</p><p>"It would've been a great show of survival skills, if you died from the first bit of food you foraged," Ymir tells Connie. "You'd definitely last long out in the wild."</p><p>Connie pulls out tufts of grass and takes aim, but they don't reach her. He doesn't bother with a follow-up attack, instead turning to his side and raising his middle finger into the air. </p><p>A quiet lull falls over the group. Ymir studies her companions from where she lies by the fire- Annie plays with a pocket knife, one of the ones they used to tear plants, giving no acknowledgment to those around her. Connie stretches out a hand and curls his fingers around blades of grass, humming to himself. Bertholdt sits with his knees drawn to his chest, and twirls one of the flowers he plucked from the riverside between his fingers. </p><p>More than once, Ymir notices his gaze drift to Annie over the fire, and then away again. She doesn't think they've exchanged more than twenty words with each other in the entire afternoon. It makes sense, given that they're both people of very few words, but Ymir can't help but see an opportunity to tease. There's a new nickname right there for the taking, <em>Stare-tolt </em>has the perfect rhythm to it... </p><p>But it's blissfully quiet, and her muscles have eased, and she's already spent a day taunting him over plenty of other things, like the way he almost fell into the river after tripping over a rock. Not everything he does needs to be mocked.</p><p>A full night's sleep after an easy afternoon... It's a rare opportunity. She should take it.</p><p>Her eyes slide shut. Shadis' voice flares up in the background, presumably yelling at Sasha's group for messing up their campfire, but it sounds so far away. It's fairly early to fall asleep, but they have no more obligations, and nobody else is talking... She curls into herself...</p><p>When she comes to, she can't move.</p><p>Her arms won't cooperate with her. Her legs are so heavy that they won't shift an inch. Her jaw trembles with the exertion of trying to take a breath, moving her head even a milimetre is impossible. She's paralysed.</p><p>She can't even see. It's like her eyelids are being weighted down- they can only crack open slightly, and when they do, everything in her vision is blurred over. </p><p>A hand bunches into her hair, pulling her upright. She still can't move of her own volition, but she's starting to realise where she is. Screams burst out around her, still familiar to this day, she can almost picture the people the sounds come from. Light explodes in her hazy world from down below- she can't see where it comes from, but the following animalistic shrieks tell her all she needs to know.</p><p>Her mouth won't move. She can't scream, she can't struggle, she can't do anything. </p><p>The hand holding her loosens. A sharp point drives into her neck. She's kicked forwards.</p><p>She jerks into consciousness before she hits the ground.</p><p>Ymir has learnt restraint over the years. She's not the type to fling herself awake and howl to the heavens after a bad dream. Her eyes fly open and her fingers dig into the ground, but she stays silent. Adrenaline shoots through her, but she remains so still it's as if nothing has happened at all.</p><p>For fuck's sake. </p><p>Pointless fucking nightmares. It's been about sixty years, can she not get a full, undisturbed night of sleep already? </p><p>The sky has turned inky, and the campsite is filled with slow, steady breathing, a stillness punctured only by Connie's snoring and the flowing of the river. Ymir brims with quiet rage at the peace of it all. How the fuck is she supposed to fall back into slumber with her arms crawling with gooseflesh, and her heart thrashing to get out of her ribcage? She closes her eyes, trying to keep her breathing level, and pulls her sleeves down, as though it'll protect her.</p><p>She's a cadet. She's camping by a river. Surrounded by harmless morons, who sleep peacefully around her. Marley is years and years in the past.  </p><p>Another sound catches her attention. It's a soft, clinking sound, the sound of... metal?</p><p>Ymir turns to her side. The fire is extinguished, so it takes her eyes a brief while to adjust to the darkness, but she doesn't need perfect clarity to see where the noise is coming from.</p><p>Bertholdt is sitting upright. He's sharpening one of his swords, the motion repetitive but steady, his eyes focused on a point in the distance.  With a soft sigh, Ymir lets an arm fall over her forehead. So she's not the only one struggling to sleep tonight.</p><p>While she could ignore him and try and return to sleep, curiosity prickles inside her. Still staring up at the sky, she says, "Bertholdt."</p><p>As expected, he jumps slightly, almost dropping his sword onto his leg. But he catches himself quickly, and in Ymir's peripheral vision, she sees his head turn towards her.</p><p>"You know," she murmurs to the stars. "If there's one thing I've always heard about you, it's that you sleep like a dead man. Why are you up?" </p><p>There's silence, and then Bertholdt shifts, and the sound of him sharpening his blade begins again. "I tried to get to sleep, but... it didn't work out. So I decided to keep myself busy."</p><p>"Hm. I'd give you a penny for your thoughts, but I don't want to waste my money."</p><p>"Hah... fair enough." There's a smile in Bertholdt's voice, which is softer than the night breeze. "Why are you awake, Ymir?"</p><p>Ymir exhales and rubs the back of her wrist across her eyes, hard. The adrenaline from before has waned somewhat, leaving her weary. "Springer's fucking snoring. It sounds like a saw going through metal. Noisy bastard did nothing useful all day, and now he's keeping me up."</p><p>At that moment, Connie lets out a snort and flops onto his side, as though he can hear Ymir's scorn in his slumber. </p><p>"I usually sleep too deeply to notice him," Bertholdt mumbles. "You should try and tune him out and get back to sleep, Ymir. Or you'll be tired tomorrow."</p><p>"Oh, yeah?" Ymir says. "And what are you gonna do? Wear that sword into dust?"</p><p>"I'll start on the other one, I guess."</p><p>"Right," Ymir drawls. She pauses in the midst of relentlessly rubbing her eyes- when she removes her hand, colourful shapes burst in her vision. "And you won't be tired tomorrow, huh?"</p><p>Bertholdt makes a non-committal noise. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."</p><p>Ymir's mouth stretches out in a yawn that has her eyes watering. "Oh, I won't."</p><p>He huffs out a laugh, unperturbed by her insolence- while he might get embarrassed by her teasing, he's rarely ever offended. Not that he would tell her if he was. </p><p>The two of them remain quiet for a while, Bertholdt staying true to his word and picking up his second sword. Ymir supposes that the monotonous rhythm of sharpening is soothing to him. Her hand slips into her hair, tangling in the locks, and she stares upwards. She's tired, but... If she sleeps again, who knows where her mind will take her. Maybe she should take a leaf out of Bertholdt's book and stay awake.</p><p>Annie mutters something indistinctly in her sleep, reminding Ymir of her presence. Her body is curled into itself and her hands are in fists- she's vigilant, alright. Far more vigilant than Connie, whose snoring seems to be increasing in volume as time goes on. After a particularly loud one, Ymir contemplates distracting herself by shoving grass into his mouth. Or perhaps a sword.</p><p>She glances at Bertholdt, wondering if he'll lend her his newly whetted blade. "Bertie, hop over there and stab him in the throat, will you?"</p><p>He looks momentarily surprised that she's still awake, but gives a small smile. "If you can't take Connie, you'd definitely hate me. I talk in my sleep."</p><p>"You do?" Ymir snorts at the unexpected information. "You barely talk when you're awake."</p><p>"Yeah... I don't know why it happens," Bertholdt says dolefully. "But when I wake up, everyone in the barracks laughs at me for something stupid I said when I was out."</p><p>"Hmm, you say I'd hate that, but that'd- that'd actually be pretty amazing." Her words are impeded by another yawn. "A whole new avenue of mockery to explore."</p><p>"And you asked why I'm staying awake..." </p><p>The dryness of his voice takes Ymir off guard, coaxing a smile from her. Perhaps Bertholdt's conversational skills are nocturnal. "You've gotta doze off. I wanna hear all the dumb shit you say."</p><p>"I think I'll pass," Bertholdt murmurs. "I get enough grief for everything I do when I'm awake..."</p><p>"True," Ymir says appreciatively. "Remember when you tripped over that rock and almost fell into the river?"</p><p>Her lips curl up more at his sigh. "You're not going to forget about that, are you?"</p><p>"Nope. Oh, and there was the time where your voice cracked, when Reus picked on you to answer a question." Ymir chortles to herself and puts on an imitation of his squeaky voice. "<em>Yes, sir!"</em></p><p>"That was last year!"</p><p>"You hit a tree in ODM training and got a nosebleed, because Shadis called out to you... you spilled soup on yourself in the mess hall when Jean patted you on the shoulder and said hi... You got Krista mixed up with Armin and asked her if she wanted to borrow a book from you... that one was perfect, Big Nose, the look on both of your faces... oh, and you can't forget the time where-"</p><p>He retreats into himself as she lists off a few more instances, ones that nobody but her noticed, because she's nothing if not observant when it comes to other's failures. She doesn't know Bertholdt that well, but she does know the dumb shit he's done.</p><p>After a minute or so of this, Bertholdt covers his face with his hand, and groans, "Will you please stop."</p><p>"But we were just getting to the story about Eren and the-!"</p><p>"I already know how it goes!"</p><p>"Well, okay, Big Nose. I guess you remember this stuff as well as I do. Just know that you can't escape me," Ymir says, pointing a finger in his general direction. "I won't remember your birthday, but I will remember every humiliating incident in your life. Consider that a promise between comrades, Bertie."</p><p>She places a hand on her heart.</p><p>"Thanks, Ymir," Bertholdt mutters. He might sound downcast, but he's smiling. "That means a lot."</p><p>"No- no- no problem." Ymir rolls her eyes heavenward at the next colossal yawn that emerges from her, and the knowing look it gets her from Bertholdt. </p><p>"You're tired," he tells her. "You should sleep, Ymir."</p><p>"You... you just want me to stop embarrassing you." </p><p>"That, and I think it'd be good for you. You'll be really out of it tomorrow, if you don't try and drop off now."</p><p>"You're not my mother, Hoover," is all Ymir says in response to that. "And stop- stop being a hypocritical bastard." </p><p>Bertholdt smiles sheepishly, conceding to this. He returns his attention to his sword, whetting its blade in those even, rhythmic strokes. Fortunately, he isn't the pushy type,  like some of the cadets who wear their hearts on their sleeves and demand that others do the same- he's the furthest thing from it, really.</p><p>Ymir doesn't want to admit it, but their conversation has been rather... soothing. When he's not stuttering like a fool, Bertholdt's voice is low and serene, almost lulling her into drowsiness. The nightmare starts to feels more distant now, washed away by the easy banter. With her arms splayed out on either side of her bedroll, and quiet falling over them again, Ymir- reluctantly- starts to feel sleep calling to her.</p><p>But she doesn't want to return to that world of paralysis, a stark reminder of the vulnerability she hates so badly. Where her body won't obey her, where she has no control over anything. No, she's safer here in the present, with the sharp tongue that has defended her since she entered the Walls, the coolness of the night air on her skin and a companion who's so... uncomplicated. A goofy, awkward teen who trips over rocks and talks nonsense in his sleep. Easy to make fun of, and he won't pry.</p><p>In these Walls, everything has so much weight to it. For just one moment, Ymir wants none of that.  </p><p><em>Shink. Shink. Shink. </em>Bertholdt is still honing that sword. </p><p>Fuck, she's sleepy.</p><p>From her right, Annie makes another noise as she shifts unconsciously, attracting Ymir's attention before her eyes can droop. Ymir watches Bertholdt's gaze jump up from the blade to her, and a small grin plays across her lips. </p><p>She makes another strike. It's not as impactful as it would be if she was more alert, and didn't have fatigue dragging at her eyelids, but it'll be enough to make Bertholdt's face go that famous shade of red. "Is Leonhart the reason you're still awake?"</p><p>"Wha-?" She's surprised he doesn't sever his leg in half, with how quickly he drops his sword. "Wh- What are you talking about?"</p><p>"You two were being all weird yesterday," Ymir informs him. "I was watching. You didn't say anything to each other all day, and by the fire, you kept staring at her."</p><p>Bertholdt shakes his head, babbling out a barely audible, "I- I wasn't staring...!"</p><p>"Yeah, you were. <em>Stare-tolt</em>," Ymir adds, remembering her wordplay from last night. The nickname makes Bertholdt's eyes widen, and she giggles to herself. "That's why you're up, isn't it? You're <em>pining </em>over her. Why don't you talk to her? I mean, I guess she was ignoring you... that's probably why..."</p><p>Unfortunately, her words are drowsy and slow, not nearly as incisive as she'd like them to be. Perhaps Bertholdt notices, because he recovers from his panic quicker than he usually does. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he picks up his sword again. </p><p>"I'm- I'm not pining over anyone," he says carefully. He resumes his sharpening, eyes firmly fixated on the blade. "Annie and I... we just don't have a lot to say to each other. We hardly know each other."</p><p>"Liar... You <em>love </em>her." Ymir squints at him. "It's keeping you up at night..."</p><p>She expects him to flounder and stutter- making Bertholdt Hoover squirm is better than any form of paid entertainment, so she braces herself- but to her surprise, he chuckles.  "What's so funny, lover boy?" </p><p>"Nothing," he says. Entirely insincerely.</p><p>Ymir's eyes sting from the exertion of keeping them open, so it's hard to give him her signature scorching stare. She settles for getting her point across with a grumble. "Tell me, Hoover."</p><p>"It's just that- it's just that you sound so <em>sleepy</em>," Bertholdt tells her, with a sustained giggle. Him laughing at her is a <em>deeply </em>offensive role reversal. "I feel like you're trying to prove some kind of point, but... I really think you should go to sleep."</p><p>"I'm not sleepy," Ymir protests, but she is, and he knows it, and she hates him for it. "Fuck you, Bertholdt."</p><p>"Sorry..." he says, but it's clear he doesn't mean it, he's still smiling. "Look you might think you can stomach staying up, but... you won't have a good morning."</p><p>Giving a quiet but pointed huff, Ymir rolls onto her back. Pressing her forearm against her eyes. She doesn't want to open them again. Fuck. "I'll be fine."</p><p>"Being around the others will make it worse," he continues. "You know how loud everyone is."</p><p>She does. The thought of dealing with Connie's, and Jean's, and fuck, <em>Eren's </em>voices when sleep-deprived is... No, she can't let Bertholdt win.</p><p>"And you'll want all your energy to make fun of me for something," he adds. "Or to throttle Connie for his snoring."</p><p>Connie heaves a sigh in his slumber, a momentary reprieve from the incessant noise he's making. Fuck, Bertholdt is winning.</p><p>"Sleep," Bertholdt murmurs.  "You'll feel better tomorrow. Trust me."</p><p>In the small, misty corner of her mind that still doesn't, Ymir considers scoffing at him. She thinks of calling him a soft bastard, of telling him to shove his sword down his throat and stop babbling. She could do a number of things to remind him that she doesn't give a shit about what he says, to assure him that she'll sleep when she damn well pleases. </p><p>With a herculean effort, she cracks her eyes open. He's giving her a small, reassuring smile. What an <em>asshole</em>.</p><p>She shifts to look in his direction, thinks vaguely about what she can say to devastate him and make that smile go away, and passes out somewhere between thought and action. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>after this we only have 2 left... eren and bertholdt himself!</p><p>lmao what's with me writing about what i don't know, i absolutely loathe camping and would probably last less than 3 seconds out in the great unknown. i am connie</p><p>this one is a little shorter than the others, but i still enjoyed writing it! it's one very heavy on the dramatic irony lmao, but it's also just... quiet night time vibes between two very dead very sad people. also, bertholdt sounds more confident in this one because it's super late, and his brain has kind of melted a little, and sleepy ymir is not as intimidating as awake ymir lol</p><p>hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Eren</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my apologies for taking such a long time with this chapter! mental health was middling and i was having pretty severe writer's block with eren's chapter. buuuut it's here now i guess!</p><p>so here we have our final cadet chapter... it wasn't entirely intentional to have eren be the last but i guess it works lol.</p><p>i've kind of just made up what their training facilities are, can't lie, i don't know if they even have a library in canon or anything, just go with it my lovessssss</p><p>hope you enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eren would do a great many things for Armin. He would charge right into the jaws of danger to keep him safe, he would bloody his knuckles to make sure nobody ever laid a hand on him, he would throw himself over him and be his shield to stop anything from coming his way. But he draws the line at going to the library with him. </p><p>It’s not as though he’s <em>totally </em>uninterested in Armin’s stories- in fact, learning tidbits about the potential world outside of the walls can be fascinating. But that’s his limit. After several days of monotonous training and hours of tedious instruction about things that feel far from relevant to Titan-killing, spending his day off reading in silence sounds about as appealing as being locked in a room with Jean.</p><p>Unfortunately, it looks like Eren has no other choice today. Mikasa is doing extra training with Sasha, Reiner is taking a nap, Connie has to spend his day off on cleaning duty because of a very ill-timed comment he made in class, Annie most certainly isn’t the type to hang out with anyone, he doesn't know where the others are, and Eren would rather gouge his eyes out than spend a second of his free time with Jean. His only other option is to find Armin. Perhaps he can be persuaded to leave the library and head down to the lake, it’s a particularly nice day outside. The sun is glowing and there’s not a cloud in sight.  </p><p>On his journey, Eren encounters a small issue- he doesn’t even remember where the library is. He’s been there perhaps once in all his time here, and there are so many weapons storage rooms and classrooms and officers and cadets around that he ends up getting disoriented in his search.  He runs into Connie in a room full of ODM equipment, sweeping up dust miserably.</p><p>“Eren!” Connie waves his broom joyfully upon spotting him. “Have you come to rescue me? I’ve been bored out of my fucking mind over here-”</p><p>“I was actually looking for the library,” Eren cuts in. “I’ve barely ever been there before, and I don’t remember where it is. I’m trying to find Armin.”</p><p>“Wow. Incredible,” Connie says in disbelief.  So you won’t stick with me, but you want to go to the <em> library </em>?”</p><p>“I’m not <em> staying </em>in the library, I’m trying to get Armin out of there,” Eren explains. “Also, come on, Connie, you’re going to be stuck in dark rooms sweeping all day, why would I want to be here with you?”</p><p>Connie huffs.  “I guess you have a point. But I don’t like that point, so I’m not telling you where the library is. You can find it yourself.”</p><p>With that, he jabs his broom into Eren’s hip before turning resolutely away. Swearing under his breath, Eren leaves him behind. It’s a little embarrassing that this of all things is turning into an ordeal- he can almost hear Armin lecturing him now, saying, <em> see, Eren, if you would just read a book once in a while, this wouldn’t be such a problem! </em></p><p>Fortunately, though, his hunt doesn’t last much longer. He pushes through a set of doors and finds himself surrounded by shelves upon shelves of field guides, history books and novels. In comparison to the usual din of the training facilities, with the constant shouting of instructors, fights and laughter from cadets, it’s a paradise in here. Quiet and cool, with liberal amounts of sunlight streaming through the windows and dust particles drifting lazily in the rays. No wonder Armin loves it in here. It sure beats reading in a street alleyway while hiding from bullies.</p><p>In his search for Armin, Eren stumbles upon another cadet. Bertholdt Hoover sits on a windowsill, cross-legged, with a book resting on his lap. It’s not entirely surprising that he’s here, even if the library is a rare location to find any cadet other than Armin- Bertholdt definitely seems like the bookish type, and probably enjoys the quiet over the chaos the others get up to during their days off. </p><p>While Armin sticks his nose directly into books and looks fascinated by every word, Bertholdt is impassive. His elbow rests against the window, his hand drifts idly through his hair as he turns a page. He doesn’t notice Eren until he’s only a few feet away- upon spotting him, he accidentally lets his book fall shut, but his finger luckily catches his page.</p><p>“Hey, Bertholdt,” Eren says, and scowls at his fellow cadet’s almost offensive look of surprise. “Yeah, yeah, I know, me in a library, you don’t need to look at me like that. I was just looking for Armin.”</p><p>“For Armin?” Bertholdt says. “Sorry, Eren, but you just missed him. He left a few minutes ago, he went to go looking for you...”</p><p>“What!” Eren can’t believe his ears. “Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me… It took me so long to find this place, and now he’s not even here?”</p><p>Bertholdt gives a little awkward shrug. “He said he thought you might be by the lake, so he’s probably heading there right now… You could catch him, if you hurry.”</p><p>After his long, perilous journey to find the library, Eren doesn’t think he has the energy in him to go all the way back out to the lake. Cursing Armin for his timing, Eren turns a glum look onto Bertholdt. </p><p>“Mind if I sit here for a bit?” he says, gesturing at the free space on the windowsill. “I’ll let Armin go on the wild goose chase this time.”</p><p>“Oh, um… Sure.”</p><p>Although there’s enough space for the both of them, Bertholdt draws his long legs into himself as much as he can.  With a grateful smile, Eren hoists himself up next to him. Embarrassingly, it requires him to jump and wriggle a bit, which Bertholdt politely pretends not to notice. The big bastard probably got up here with no trouble at all.</p><p>When he’s up, Eren leans against the window and presses his face against the glass. The library overlooks the training grounds- he catches a glimpse of Shadis marching across the grass, presumably about to ruin a cadet’s day, and someone who he momentarily thinks is Armin, but is actually Krista. </p><p>Eren turns his gaze back to Bertholdt. His attention has also been drawn to outside- he squints as the sun pokes at his eyes, his fingers tap absent-mindedly at the spine of his book. The title is difficult to make out from here, but it looks relatively thick, and from where Bertholdt’s finger is holding the page, it seems as though he’s gotten through quite a lot of it. </p><p>“You’re like Armin, then, huh?” Eren enquires. “Reading on your day off?”</p><p>“Yeah... sometimes,” Bertholdt says. He closes his book fully and turns it around in his hands. “You can laugh, if you want.”</p><p>“This is nothing new to me, trust me,” Eren reassures him. “My best friend does the same thing, I don’t laugh at him for it.”</p><p>“Sounds nice,” Bertholdt mumbles, looking downcast. “My best friend <em> always </em> laughs at me.”</p><p>Eren grins, recalling the times Reiner has poked fun at Bertholdt and gotten him flustered. “Okay, to be fair, I did come in here to drag him outside. Was Armin with you, by the way? Do you two read together or something?”</p><p>Bertholdt nods, more than a little embarrassed, judging by the flush that paints his cheeks, even though Eren really doesn’t care. “Whenever we’re here at the same time, we sit together.”</p><p>“Oh- now that I think about it, he’s mentioned that to me before,” Eren says, suddenly recalling Armin’s eagerness in telling him he wasn’t the only nerd among the cadets. </p><p>“Yeah…" Bertholdt looks down at his hands, wearing a small smile. "He, um, always makes me feel stupid, with how fast he can get through books compared to me.”</p><p>Eren nods sagely. “It's the same for everyone. Feeling stupid is an entry-level requirement for being Armin’s friend.”</p><p>"It's tough."</p><p>"Mm. But we gotta struggle on." Eren swings his legs against the wall, eyes running across the countless shelves. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he cleared out half of this place by the end of the month. He’s been obsessed with reading since we were kids, you know.”</p><p>“Ha... that doesn’t surprise me.” </p><p>The image of Armin crouching in the dust and the dirt, with his precious tome clutched to his chest, flickers in Eren’s mind. “Yeah… he picked up one of his grandfather’s books, and hasn’t stopped reading since then. And with this place, I doubt he’ll ever.”</p><p>Bertholdt’s lips tip upwards. He hugs his book close, his eyes flicker out of the window again. “But- but you’re not as much of a fan, huh?” </p><p>“Is anyone?” Eren snorts, not without affection. “Actually, you might be, is there even a single picture in that big ass book you’ve got? Or is it all words?”</p><p>“Um…” Bertholdt opens the book and flicks through all the pages to show him. </p><p>Every single page is crammed with tiny, tiny words. They’re almost microscopic. Eren leans forwards to squint at them, in complete disbelief. </p><p>“All words,” Bertholdt says. At Eren's look, he adds, "It's- it's not as bad as it looks."</p><p>“No wonder Armin finishes books faster than you, if that’s the kind of shit you’re reading," Eren says incredulously. "Holy shit, Bertholdt, that’s some attention span you’ve got.”</p><p>With a gentle chuckle, Bertholdt flips the book shut again. It’s probably the width of Eren’s hand. “It’s actually pretty entertaining… and it’s a good time sink. You should give it a go, Eren.”</p><p>“I... think I’ll pass,” Eren says. “If I’m gonna start reading, I think a medium sized leaflet is more on my level.”</p><p>Bertholdt shrugs. There's a twinkle in his eyes. “Or you could try one of the thousand page epics they’ve got here. Maybe you'll like it and get a new hobby, and you and Armin can reach true understanding with each other…."</p><p>“Not a chance,” Eren laughs. “No, I’m the brawn, he’s the brains. That’s how it’s always been, that’s how it’ll always be. He can do all the reading.”</p><p>“Right.” Finally looking up, Bertholdt gives him a faint smile, one that Eren doesn’t know how to interpret. “And Mikasa?” </p><p>Eren arches a curious eyebrow. “What about Mikasa?”</p><p>“Well… she told me she used to protect you in fights a lot, back when you were kids,” Bertholdt says. “What does that make her?”</p><p>That’s just wonderful. The mildly teasing look he gives is an unusual sight from Bertholdt, but it doesn’t rile Eren up like it would if it came from someone like Jean. With an aggrieved sigh, he says, “Okay, okay... you got me. Mikasa’s the brawns. I’m the… motivator. A motivator who can fight.”</p><p>The twitch of Bertholdt’s lips speak volumes as to what he thinks about that. </p><p>“Don’t you give me that look,” Eren says, pretending to be offended. “You big asshole.”</p><p>“Sorry...” Bertholdt says, raising his hands in self-defense- maybe he’s a little too good at sounding mad. “I’m only joking. You’re a good cadet, for sure.” </p><p>“Don’t worry, I was kidding too.” Eren smiles at him. “Anyway, you and Reiner are <em> textbook </em> brain and brawns, so I’m not taking any shit from you about not being brawny.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call myself the brains of anything,” Bertholdt says. “Not that I’d call myself brawny, either…”</p><p>“You are a nerd sitting in the library reading a giant book on your day off,” Eren chortles. “I’d call that brainy.”</p><p>Bertholdt slumps listlessly against the window. “And you said you wouldn’t laugh…”</p><p>“I was lying to make you feel better,” Eren says, with a grin set firmly on his face. </p><p>“I thought you’d be better than Reiner,” Bertholdt tells him gloomily. “More empathetic.”</p><p>“Friends make fun of each other, Bertholdt, as you know all too well,” Eren informs him. “Honestly, I think Armin’s immune to teasing from me at this point, I’ve gotta get my kicks in somewhere.”</p><p>For a brief second, the two of them make rare eye contact, but just as quickly, Bertholdt’s eyes flit away. The little bit of spark in him seems to fizzle away for some reason, Eren wonders why- but then he mumbles, “Can’t you find someone else to kick?”</p><p>Eren grins. Before he can give a resolute no to this question, someone enters the library, someone who changes his mind at once. “You know what, Bertholdt? I think I can.”</p><p>Jean Kirschtein, the mortal avatar of scorn and the 104th’s resident asshole, grimaces as he approaches the windowsill where Eren and Bertholdt sit. Eren feels the beginnings of a smirk emerging, though a small voice in his head that sounds like an irritating fusion of Mikasa and Armin warns him not to be juvenile.</p><p>“Bertl, hey, good to see you,” Jean says, raising a hand. Bertholdt gives a little wave in response, eyes darting nervously between him and Eren. “Jaeger, it’s <em> not </em> good to see you. I would stop and chat, but I’d rather get eaten by a Titan.”</p><p>“Whaddya know, we actually agree on something,” Eren says. “I’d quite like you to get eaten by a Titan too.”</p><p>“Funny how these things happen,” Jean says darkly. He turns to Bertholdt again- the other boy doesn’t know how to act in the abundantly baleful atmosphere. “I’m here to pick up another tactics guide. I let Daz borrow mine for one day, and he lost it, that’s why I don’t like doing nice things. What section are they in again?”</p><p>Bertholdt points vaguely to the right, still warily watching them both. “Um, it’s just two sections over...”</p><p>“Thanks, man.” Jean gives Eren a filthy look, before squinting at Bertholdt and the large book he’s holding. “By the way, Bertl-”</p><p>“I thought you weren’t going to stop and chat,” Eren interrupts him. </p><p>A dangerous glint sparks in Jean’s eyes. Bertholdt bites his lip. “I wasn’t going to chat to <em> you. </em> As I was saying- you doing alright over here, Bertl? You need a knight in shining armour to save you from this idiot?”</p><p>Bertholdt flushes. “Uh-”</p><p>“He’s doing just fine,” Eren says. “Run along, Kirschtein.”</p><p>Jean only snorts, stepping forwards to look at the cover of Bertholdt’s book. “What are you two doing in here anyway, reading? I didn’t know Jaeger was an <em> intellectual. </em>”</p><p>“You’d be surprised,” Eren snaps, bristling at his tone.</p><p>“Oh, I am.”</p><p>“Guys,” Bertholdt says tentatively, as Eren straightens. “Um, there’s this librarian in here- she gets mad if there’s too much noise…”</p><p>The two of them give him as much attention as they would one of the dust particles floating in the light. </p><p>“Well, I guess you’ve gotta compensate somewhere,” Jean snarks, haughtily tilting his chin. “If you can’t fight, might as well try and read up and know your stuff. Even then, you’d still be second-best to Arlert, huh?”</p><p>“You little-”</p><p>Eren surges forwards in his outrage, but his elbow collides with a <em> very </em>solid chest before his hands can reach Jean’s throat. Bertholdt has jumped down from the windowsill, acting as a barrier between the two of them.</p><p>“Guys…” he pleads. “Just- just calm down, okay? You might get in trouble.”</p><p>Chest heaving, Eren jerks his head up to snap at Bertholdt that he couldn’t care less about getting in trouble, only giving this bastard what he deserves (he’s sniggering from behind Bertholdt’s back)- but his words die on his tongue.</p><p>Bertholdt stares down at him in confusion as Eren’s brow creases.  “Wh- What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing, it’s just.” Eren’s eyes flicker up to Bertholdt’s face and down to the floor, then back up again. Wow. He suddenly feels rather self-conscious. “You’re <em> really </em>tall, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Um,” Bertholdt says. </p><p>“Oh, really, did you just notice? You’ve only known him for a year,” Jean deadpans. “He’s twice the size of some of our instructors.”</p><p>“I didn’t really… <em> think </em>about it properly,” Eren remarks. “How’d you even move with ODM gear? Isn’t it… awkward? Being so...”</p><p>He makes vague gestures with his hands to indicate Bertholdt’s considerable height, at the same time feeling a little aggrieved- he’s probably several kilos lighter than Bertholdt, yet still finds ODM traversal more difficult. </p><p>Now Bertholdt looks self-conscious, intensely so. He hunches his shoulders. “It’s fine… it’s not like I’m crazy heavy, or anything. I just… I handle it, I guess.”</p><p>“Aw, Bertholdt.” Eren can’t help but laugh at the look on his face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p>“Don’t worry Bertl, Eren’s just jealous,” Jean declares. “He’s such a skinny little shithead, but is still about as dignified as a hippo would be with ODM gear, he just wants to know your secret.”</p><p>This time, Bertholdt has to use quite a bit more force to stop Eren from getting to him, pleading for him to calm down all the while. Irritatingly, he’s got more than enough strength to hold Eren back, as much as he thrashes. Bertholdt’s attempts to quiet down the scene are all in vain, as the hawkish looking librarian appears around the corner just as Eren’s fist catches Jean’s shoulder. </p><p>“<em>What </em> is going on here?” she demands, and Bertholdt slumps miserably. “Are you aware that this is a quiet place for reading and studying? <em> Not </em>an extension of your combat training! Hoover, I would’ve never expected this from you!”</p><p>Any other cadet would jump in to point out the injustice in this statement, as Bertholdt was trying to <em> stop </em>the fighting, but Bertholdt doesn’t- so Eren tries to do it for him. “Excuse me, ma’am, but Bertholdt wasn’t-”</p><p>“I don’t want to hear from you hoodlums! I want you all out!” the librarian snaps. “All three of you, go, now, or I’ll be reporting this to the head instructor!”</p><p>Bertholdt blanches instantly. “Let’s go, guys.”</p><p>“But ma’am,” Jean says. “I just needed to pick up a tactics gui-”</p><p>“OUT!”</p><p>The three of them are ushered out most forcefully by the woman, Eren and Jean's protests falling on deaf ears. Before they can utter another word in their defence, they have the doors of the library flung in their faces.</p><p>Eren gapes in disbelief- surely the library would be a place free of the unhinged? How could even this place be stressful?</p><p>“Damn it!” Jean says, glaring at the doors. “Talk about an overreaction. We barely did anything! Ugh, this is all your fault, Jaeger!”</p><p>“<em> My </em>fault?” Eren demands, wheeling on him in fury. “You were the one who provoked me-”</p><p>“- and you were the one who tried to break my jaw because of one lousy comment-”</p><p>“Well, at least now I can do it freely without that woman there to see it-!”</p><p>Bertholdt pinches the bridge of his nose, reaching out an arm to stop Eren from attacking. “Guys, <em> please </em>…”</p><p>The two of them pause in their tracks, before another brawl can break out, and look at their reluctant companion. Bertholdt looks rather like a harried father would, stressed at their every action. He still has his book clutched beneath his arm, but has just been robbed of a place where he can peacefully read it. Eren feels a spike of guilt inside him, knowing that the quiet boy isn’t the type to yell at others for ruining things for him. Even with him and Jean continuing to act up, he doesn't raise his voice or sound mad at all.</p><p>“Um… sorry, Bertholdt,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We kinda messed everything up, didn’t we?”</p><p>Surprisingly, Jean matches his sheepishness. “Yeah, Bertl, we, um, didn’t mean to get you caught up in all that. Sorry.”</p><p>The smile Bertholdt gives is <em> very </em>pained. “It’s alright, guys… I was in there for a while, anyway, I was going to have to leave sooner or later.”</p><p>“We- we could explain things to her,” Jean offers, and Eren nods along. “I’m sure she’d let you back in if we-”</p><p>“No, it’s okay, she’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Bertholdt says. It feels like it should be impossible to be as calm as he is, he really doesn’t look pissed off at all, even though the situation <em>certainly </em>warrants it. “She’ll only get more annoyed if you go back in there.”</p><p>“Right,” Jean says, half-cringing- even he has a conscience, sometimes. He points a finger at both of them. “So, um... I guess I’ll just go, then."</p><p>"Please do," Eren says.</p><p>Jean scowls at him, but doesn't react. "I’ll ask Marco if he can get the tactics guide out for me, I guess.”</p><p>“Or you could just go without it, and have Shadis wring you out," Eren mutters.</p><p>“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Would distract him from noticing your incompetence,” Jean bites back. Eren balls his hand into a fist- but both of them quickly sober up once more when remembering how their fighting has already fucked things up for Bertholdt. Clearing his throat, Jean backs away. “Um, well, see you, Bertl. Fuck you, Jaeger.”</p><p>“Fuck you too,” Eren says, and Bertholdt gives that little wave again. </p><p>Jean departs, leaving the two of them behind. When he disappears around the corner and out of sight, Eren lowers his middle finger and turns to Bertholdt. </p><p>“I guess I’ll go do what I came here to do,” he says awkwardly. “Find Armin.”</p><p>Bertholdt nods, shifting his book so he’s carrying it under his arm. “He’s probably been looking around for you... Let's go.”</p><p>The two of them set off, Eren shuffling his feet slightly. He still feels remorseful about the whole incident. It had been <em> fun </em>to sit and chat with Bertholdt, until fucking Jean had turned up.   </p><p>Eren turns to him, gnawing on the side of his cheek, amazed that there’s not a hint of passive aggression, or real aggression in his behaviour. Bertholdt meets his eyes briefly, before looking away. He seems to have a real problem with any sort of eye contact longer than three seconds. But if there's any ill will there, Eren doesn't see it, which is... something. </p><p>Bertholdt leads them outside. It's a relief, because Eren has already completely forgotten how he got to the library in the first place. When they step out onto the grounds, they’re greeted with a full blast of sunlight and a pleasant breeze brushing against them. The day is still lovely, not even the malevolent storm cloud that was Kirschtein could ruin that. Sitting by the lake will probably be enough to bring Eren full inner peace.</p><p>“Okay." Bertholdt gives Eren a small smile, and raises a hand. "I’ll head off, now- hope you find Armin quickly. See you later, Eren.”</p><p>He turns to leave. Eren still feels like all his apologies were woefully inadequate, and he doesn’t want Bertholdt to go, so he thinks quickly, and bursts out, “Hey, Bertholdt, wait!”</p><p>Bertholdt glances over his shoulder.</p><p>“You should come with me to find Armin,” Eren says. “Come and hang out with us!”</p><p>There’s bewilderment on Bertholdt’s face, like he can’t work out why Eren would possibly want him to join them. Or maybe it’s because he’s secretly furious at him, and doesn’t want to spend another second in his company. That would be a fair sentiment from Bertholdt, but Eren presses anyway.</p><p>“I know you might not be too peachy on me at the moment, but Armin’s a very soothing influence,” he says. “You can keep reading your book, too, we won’t disturb you. We can go by the lake and hang out there. It’s not as noisy there, and there won’t be any fighting.”</p><p>He’s babbling, he knows- that’s probably what Bertholdt’s expression is telling him too. Well, Eren thinks so, anyway, he doesn’t actually know what that furrowed brow means- it’s either Bertholdt mulling things over, or questioning Eren’s sanity. </p><p>“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Bertholdt says finally. </p><p>“It’s not intruding if someone invites you to join them,” Eren tells him. “Armin won’t mind at all. So, are you coming?”</p><p>It doesn’t seem like an offer that would merit such lengthy rumination, but Eren waits patiently (and a little nervously, because he truly has no idea what’s taking Bertholdt so long to decide).</p><p>But eventually, he nods.  “Okay. I will.”</p><p>Mildly relieved, Eren grins and gestures for Bertholdt to follow him. He begins to contemplate out loud about where Armin might be as they start walking, hoping that they don't end up on another wild goose chase around the grounds, with both parties perpetually searching for each other.   </p><p>Bertholdt doesn't say anything in response, so eventually, Eren stops talking too. But that's alright. After the afternoon he's had, he deserves a little silence, and Eren doesn't mind the quiet. It's easy and pleasant. That's the thing he likes most about Bertholdt- you can always count on things to be peaceful when he's around.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fun fact about me: eren is my least favourite character in the show lmao, not even in a "i find historia boring" way but a "he actively grates at my very being" way lmao. i can't describe the level of my annoyance towards him, and no, him growing his hair and becoming all serious and edgy did not endear me to him sjgjgjgsjsj. i hope i don't have any rabid eren stans here hahahah im sorry</p><p>but this chap is teen eren in the cadets, before any of the actual story happens, and it's a 'non-consequential' moment where he isn't wrapped up in plot related angst, so it couldn't really be have been super intense or anything. it was actually pretty fun to write tbh. he might be wildly ooc but i've agonised over this chapter so much that i have to simply let my worries go into the wind</p><p>next chapter... well.  we'll finally be getting a fic's worth of unspoken words, i guess :) it'll be a really challenging one,  but bertholdt is one of the most fascinating characters and i'm so excited to write from his perspective! i'm also excited that i'm finally about to have a finished fic under my belt</p><p>thank you all for reading, and i really appreciate everyone who comments :) i hope this chapter was enjoyable enough !</p><p>p.s. i reevaluate what i said about jean in his chapter- he's actually super grown on me and i really like him now lol</p><p>p.p.s. eren's pretty short right? like i think he's only a bit taller than levi, and compared to bertholdt he'd definitely seem short, so i'm rolling with that</p>
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